Scared?
by Flitty
Summary: Harry discovers an enchanted book on his bed. He begins attempting to change for the better, along with Hermione and Ron. Animagus!Harry, third year, PoA events. A magical Animagus never before seen. NotOverpowered!Harry, but Smart!Harry and Smart!Ron. HHr, RW/LL. AU, Because I won't check the smallest details.
1. Guide

**J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter... Stupid veritaserum...**

** Key:**  
>"Speech"<br>'writing'

* * *

><p>Harry had found something special in his room in the Leaky Cauldron. About to leave for his third year at Hogwarts, he had gone over his room to check for anything he had forgotten. Sitting on his bed was a ragged book, opened to a page washed with scribbles, seemingly of another language. He picked it up cautiously, hoping beyond all hope that the tome wasn't cursed like Riddle's diary. He rested his index finger under the book and, in one small motion, flipped the left cover over, revealing a dark but faded red front, with a few symbols printed in blazing gold lettering. Intrigued, Harry suddenly felt the urge to poke it with his wand, and he did so. The symbols shifted and separated as the black haired boy watched on in awe.<p>

'A Marauder's Guide to Magicks.'

Opening the Guide to a random page, Harry noticed a few words in the centre of the page. He flipped to another page, then another, only to find them all identical.

'Take out a quill, but no ink.' He did so, dunking his head into the trunk and pulling it out along a chewed quill. Still not understanding what had possessed him to gnaw on it so savagely, he gazed morosely at the once perfect writing tool, before turning back to the Guide.

'Write what you want to learn about.'

Harry blinked, his quill tip hovering over the parchment. A sense of dread built in his gut; Ginny had been controlled by Riddle's diary, so what would this Guide be able to do?

"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley's voice came from downstairs, saving him from the choice for now. He looked back at the book, which now read 'you should probably go,' closed it and sealed the trunk, stowing the Guide and quill under his arm and planning to find enough time to write in it on the journey to King's Cross.

Halfway through the car ride, Harry elbowed Hermione lightly, giving her a look that told her to pay close attention, and opened the still translated book. the words 'Back again?' faded onto the parchment and Harry wrote.

'Yes, and I would like to learn who wrote this, first of all.' The ink of the Marauders' message followed the path that Harry's quill had taken perfectly, including the jerks caused by Hermione's nudging Harry to try to stop him. She obviously hadn't remembered the diary, but she just as obviously thought that the book was cursed. Harry held a hand in front of her with bated breath, and the black ink split into four colour-coded lines. They snaked into sentences.

'Red is Padfoot,'

'gold is Prongs,'

'silver is Moony,'

'and green is Wormtail.' Harry watched in confusion as Padfoot and Prongs had crossed the green out, as if it wasn't welcome, but the silver hadn't made a move.

The boy-who-lived placed the mangled quill back on the page and the ink balled up on the tip, before he started writing once more. 'What would you recommend that I learn?'

'Prongs and Padfoot agree on transfiguration,' they wrote in the flashing Gryffindor colours. Then, in a fainter gold and red, another line showed. 'This can't be seen by your friend, but you should try to become an Animagus. It's dead useful, but also illegal so don't let anyone know for now. Reopen the book when you are alone.' Harry got the message and shut the book, before glancing at Hermione, who seemed on the verge of lecturing him for possibly endangering his life.

* * *

><p><strong>From now on, ANs will be down here, where I can talk about the chapter without spoilers. I will state outright that I have no idea where this is going, apart from the very basic premise, although even this is liable to change as I come up with competing ideas, which I will.<strong>

**For now, basic Guide mechanics. The marauders write in third person, and cannot write about each others secrets. For example, Wormtail couldn't out moony as a werewolf, and Prongs couldn't out Wormtail's betrayal. The book was created in Hogwarts and as such has Wormtail included, and unable to be removed except by his own magic or extremely powerful magic. However, James and Sirius each found the book after they discovered the betrayal, and had Prongs and Padfoot cross Wormtail's ink out whenever it appeared.**


	2. Decision

**I'm... _Afraid _I don't own Harry Potter. Get it? (All hate mail to JK Rowling please, the joke is hers too.)**

**Thanks for the reviews! I plan on keeping this a long runner if all goes well, so stay tuned.**

* * *

><p>As he boarded the train along with Hermione and Ron, Harry pondered what to do. He, Ron and Hermione were friends, but the book had told him being an Animagus (whatever that was) was illegal. He didn't know if he wanted them brought into this, but he decided to tell them regardless.<p>

On board, the golden trio rushed past the crowded compartments; Harry pulling the other two by their wrists, Hermione doing an admirable job of keeping pace, and Ron trailing behind. Harry's efforts were in vain, however; they were the last on the train and no compartment was completely empty. Nearing the last carriage, they ducked into a room occupied by a single, sleeping person, Remus J. Lupin. Harry opened the Guide, and text appeared.

'Hello again. Wave your wand in a C shape and think 'Muffliato'. Could be useful.' The three raised their eyebrows at this; Harry doubted he could cast silent magic, Hermione wondered what secrets this dusty old book could hold, and Ron remembered the diary, and nearly batted the Guide out of Harry's hands in his shock. The Boy-who-lived pulled out his wand, swished it in a C shape, and thought 'Muffliato'. A strange buzzing in his ears was the confirmation Harry recieved, and he turned to the others and spoke.

"The sleeping guy shouldn't be able to hear us now, so what's up?"

"What the bloody hell are you doing with another evil book?!" It said volumes of the situation that Hermione didn't chastisize Ron for language.

"What's gotten into you, Harry? Books like this could be cursed! You should know that by now!"

Harry took offence to that. "That's why I nudged you before I wrote in it, Hermione. I'm sure you could handle a possessed me no problem." With that, he moved to the issue at hand. "Do either of you know what an Animagus is?" Hermione raised her hand, and Harry chuckled to himself at her muscle memory. "Yes, Hermione?" She realised her arm was in the air, blushed and pulled it down, glaring daggers at Harry's comment.

"An Animagus is someone who can tranfigure themselves into an animal at will. Each wizard has a single Animagus form that could be unlocked, but more than one wizard could become the same species. Magical forms are currently unheard of, but may be possible; the art of Animagick isn't well researched. The animal form reflects an aspect of a wizard's life, whether it be personality, known languages, social status, effects on others or even past transfiguration mishaps. Animal instincts become apparent in the animal form, and may even bleed into the human form as well. The human form also gains some advantages, such as better night vision in a cat Animagus such as Professor McGonagall. Becoming an Animagus is illegal unless the form is registered, and also under the age of twenty-one, as it is very dangerous to attempt. However, I think-" Her mouth suddenly stopped, and she seemed to struggle for words.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, and the girl in question glanced around the room, checking for nearby threats, then lowered her voice to a whisper.

"I want to learn Animagick, but can't find any books on it!"

She seemed shocked at her own words, and Ron gaped incredulously, "_Hermione_ wants to break laws! What the hell happened over the summer?"

They laughed at this, if a little nervously in Hermione's case. She poked the book with a finger, "are you going to tell us what this is and how you got it, Harry?"

The black haired boy found all attention on him, and he told them. "It's called 'A Marauder's Guide to Magicks', and it apparently teaches whatever you name, or whatever it thinks would be useful in the situation. As for how I found it," he shifted uncomfortably, forcing himself to believe that Lucius Malfoy hadn't found another book. "It was lying on my bed when I went to check everything was packed. I picked it up and took it with me." It wasn't a lie, but a truth by ommission in Harry's eyes. Totally different. "When it told me to do transfiguration, there was a note only I could see, and it told me to do Animagick alone. I told you anyway, so thank me."

Ron muttered a thanks, but Hermione gave hers with a bushy glomp, before they all turned back to the dull red magical object, Ron with more than a little apprehension in his eyes. Harry picked up the quill once more.

'Teach me and my friends to be Animagi, please.'

And so they learned. With competent instructions on the process, they searched their inner minds for a glimpse of the animal they would become. Ron saw a blur of fire, and Hermione came into close proximity of a smart-looking bird, but both images were too warped to see properly. The guide congratulated them, and told them both that they'd have to transform to get a better look at their forms.

Harry was confused. Not just a little, either. He could see a warped sphere, glowing a bright silver in his mindscape, but he couldn't concentrate enough to tell anything about it. He asked Hermione for some privacy, and she complied, conjuring opaque magical barriers around him. He cast into his mind once more, and found... Nothing. There was something there, but Harry couldn't sense it in any way. He could just... Tell that it was there. It was like a muggle magic trick. You knew there was a trick, even if there was no way to sense it.

He knocked on the barrier thrice, and when it was down, he dove once more into his own mind. Now, instead of the sphere, Harry saw what seemed to be a piece of parchment, laying on the floor (his mind had a floor, by the way). Strange.

As the day dragged on, the trio sat in a fidgety silence, punctuated only by slight snores from the man, whom they had deemed to be a Professor by his age. They had agreed to wait until the trolley witch had come and gone, so as to minimise the chance of awkward situations. Besides, they were hungry.

The trolley witch came and went, the companions got changed for Hogwarts, and they stood, ready for the next step in Animagus training. Ron had a brilliant idea and cast _'Silencio'_ on the floor, to make doubly sure the Professor wouldn't wake from the noise of footsteps and see their illegal activities.

By the time it got dark outside, Hermione had grown feathers, Ron's eyes had changed, and Harry's... Nothing had done anything. Joy. In his defence, concentrating on what you would feel was kind of hard when he would become a miniature star.

Ron's hand changed into a claw at that moment, he panicked for a second, and Harry looked up in concern. In his mind's eye, he noticed an ever so slight change, and he grappled that in his subconscious, holding on for dear life. After making sure Ron was fine, he slipped, for lack of a better term, into a new form. He blinked, and felt four limbs behind him. Dully noting Ron's reaction of one part shock, six parts fear, he understood.

He was an acromantula.

* * *

><p><strong>Boom! New chapter. Will Harry's Animagus form strain his and Ron's relationship? Will it create new bonds? What will they make of the dementor? Find out next time on 'Scared?'!<strong>

**Yes, I know that acromantula aren't exactly magical, but they are classified as such, and it'll be fun to write (And read, I hope). Besides, you still don't know Ron and Hermione's forms and abilities!**


	3. Dementor

Ron Weasley was terrified of spiders. He always had been, ever since Fred and George transfigured his teddy into one. He also wasn't the kind of person to put up with his fears unless he seriously had to. So he stood up, made his way to the opposite corner of the room, pointed dramatically at the spider-man and yelled, "traitor!"

Harry blinked at this; he could tell Ron was scared, but he could also understand a joke when he saw one. "Feeling better now, Ron?"

"A little, yeah," the redhead admitted after a moment's silence. "Maybe I'll get over it if the spider is you, Harry, but do you mind..?" He made a vague chopping motion and Harry complied, changing back to human form. He had trouble with that, and he dreaded having to change back from his full Animagus form.

The rest of the journey passed without any major incidents, and Harry packed up the Guide and his quill in case Professor Lupin woke up, and Ron removed the Silencing charm and Muffliato. As they stood up to get off, Hermione frowned. She had gained an impeccable sense of direction from her currently unknown Animagus form, and she could tell that they weren't quite at Hogwarts yet. As she came to this conclusion, an icy chill spread through the carriage. The windows frosted over and the trio's breath fogged up. Hermione and Ron were shivering; they hadn't brought coats as it was the middle of summer.

Then they saw Harry.

He lay on the floor, curled up into a ball and shaking violently. His face had gone a sickly blue and he seemed to be hanging on the edge of consciousness. Ron lifted him onto the bed, still huddled into himself, and Hermione's mind went into a blur, working out possible courses of action. She couldn't use a heating charm; the water now frozen onto his skin would evaporate, taking the heat with it. She couldn't get help; he would be frozen solid in less than a minute at the rate he was going. She did the only thing her instincts would let her, and curled up around him, sending body heat washing into his frigid form. As the water slowly melted, she found herself casting wandless, silent drying charms and whispering encouragement into his ear.

Harry began to ease up, regaining control of his laboured breathing and smiling weakly. He tried to snuggle backwards into Hermione's embrace, and she apparently sensed his attempt, pulling him in closer.

"Thanks, 'Mione," he whispered, still weak, "I've got a headache and really don't want to move..."

She snorted at this, then huffed, "thank me later, survive freezing to death now!"

"'Kay."

The door slid open, Ron yelled and Hermione screamed. A scabbed, skeletal hand reached out from under a tattered cloak and the three felt their happiness draining away, sucked in by the cold and leaving them with terrible memories. Ron saw the inside of a cupboard and heard the name 'Ginny Weasley', spoken by professor McGonagall. Hermione saw Harry, once more dying of frostbite in front of her.

Harry saw a silver light, a vaporous fog covering the three of them like armour. The creature couldn't come into contact with them, couldn't remind them of events long passed, and it couldn't hurt his friends.

That was all that mattered as he collapsed, another silver shape blinding him even as he was dragged to unconsciousness.

"Eat," Harry heard, and he blearily accepted the gift and ate. The chocolate frog seemed to warm him from the inside out, but Hermione's still ongoing cuddle set alight his heart and put the sweet stuff to shame. He blinked, then reached out for his glasses, cursing his need of them to the depths of hell.

"Where are they?"

"Where're what, mate?" Ron was watching over him in concern.

"My glasses, obviously, I can't see!"

The professor, whom Harry now recognised, shook his head lightly. "You have them on, Mr. Potter. You just need to rest for a while. Don't try to focus, you'll simply damage your eyes."

Harry reached up to pull off the circular wire-rims. If he couldn't see anyway, why bother wearing them, after all? As he slid them off his face, the Boy-who-lived gasped. He could see. He instantly felt a small pang, a part of him that wanted the glasses, if only for the memories. He would change the lenses into regular glass later. For now he put his glasses away.

Nobody but Ron seemed surprised about Harry's fixed eyesight; Hermione seemed to be expecting it, and Professor Lupin handed him a certain Guide. "I know what this is, Harry. I found it while looking through your luggage for more chocolate, and I apologise for that. I shouldn't give it back to you, but I am not a Professor until we get to the grounds, thus I see no reason to confiscate it. You were lucky it wasn't cursed, so next time see Professor Dumbledore before writing in strange books."

Harry realised that he could have sent a letter to the Headmaster, and felt his face go pink in embarrassment, nodding all the while. Then a question surfaced in his mind.

"What happened, anyway? Where did the cold thing go?"

"Well," Hermione started, "after the thing came in, we were surrounded by this silver fog. We don't know where that came from. Anyway, the thing couldn't touch us until the fog cleared, but then Mr Lupin created some more and drove it off. I think that's around when you had a sort of... Fit. It was really scary and I couldn't even do anything! Oh, then Mr Lupin gave you some chocolate but ran out of it, so he looked in our luggage and found some more, along with the book."

"Back onto the topic of the book, use your Animagus forms wisely," Lupin told them sternly, recieving looks of shock. "Yes, I know you have them. The Marauders loved being Animagi and that is the first thing they would have taught you. Remember that a spell exists to reveal your human forms, so try not to act too rashly. A disguise won't work if everyone knows it's you, after all."

Ron pushed his jaw up with both hands, then did the same for Harry and Hermione, stirring them out of their daze. They all nodded, but Ron spoke up. "So you aren't going to tell the ministry, then?"

Mr Lupin chuckled. "I haven't seen any hard evidence of you three being Animagi, so I see no reason to turn you in. I would investigate, but I am not a teacher yet. Now," he clapped his hands together, "I must go and speak with the driver."

"Can't it wait?" Hermione pleaded. "There's only ten minutes left of the journey, and Harry needs medical attention!"

Ron and Lupin stared at her, but the awkward silence was broken quickly by Harry's mumbled "I'm fine, 'Mione."

"If you were fine, Mr Potter, you'd realise that I know how far we are from Hogwarts without looking outside or making any calculations!"

Now it was Harry's turn to stare. Hermione had never been brilliant with direction, but a look out the window made her estimate seem legitimate. An idea came to him. "Hermione, are you an owl?"

She blanched. "I hope not, I hate being off the floor."

"Are you saying the feathers didn't tip you off, Hermione?" Ron asked, trying desperately to keep a straight face and failing spectacularly.

"I never thought I'd see the day," Harry mused, a similar grin plastering his face, "Hermione bested by Ronald Weasley." He earned a punch on the shoulder for his cheek, but both potentially guilty parties were now looking out the window, whistling.

* * *

><p><strong>So Harry's form is accepted by Ron, and everything turns out well. Sure, the road was bumpy, but Harry and co. made it out alive. But who casted that first patronus? Why didn't they show themselves? What caused Harry's violent reaction to the cold? Is Hermione an owl? Find the answers to these questions and many more, sometime in the future! (Probably.)<strong>


	4. Malfunction

**I would be demented if I thought that Harry Potter belonged to me. The books belong to JK Rowling, and the character apparently belongs to Hermione.**

**I'm filling in for last chapter, so double the disclaimers and double the jokes.**

* * *

><p>The final ten minutes of the journey to Hogwarts passed quickly, with Ron and Lupin conversing about the coming year and Lupin's lesson plans. Apparently being an Animagus convinced him that the results were more than worth the study, and he had taken a leaf out of Hermione's book. Harry was once again bundled into himself, his body now resting on Hermione's lap. The girl was appalled by his lack of weight and she forced him to eat her own pumpkin pasty, which he grudgingly accepted, if only to stop her shouting into his ear.<p>

When they arrived, Harry found himself too cold to even stand, and so he handed the Guide to Ron. After a quick scribble in the book and some tests on the trunks, he raised his wand and cast a flawless Mobilicorpus, to which the Boy-who-lived grinned- Ron could do anything if he wanted to. With Hermione and Lupin's dual warming charms, a toasty Potter floated out of the train, the invisibility cloak draped over him to avoid the stares of the other students as he led the way to the invisible-horse drawn carriages.

As they sat down, Harry shivered. Lupin had disappeared somewhere and his warming charm was wearing off, but Ron's replacement spell worked well enough to keep him comfortable. Although it was hardly necessary by this point, the boy with the lightning scar found his head once again in Hermione's lap. This time she had taken to gently stroking his unmanageable hair, which he found he very much liked; he even purred, and was sent into a fit of giggles as soon as he imagined a purring acromantula.

Harry let his mind wander and once again saw his Animagus form, except that he found a humanoid form this time, and by the position and shivering he could see, he could tell that it was himself, dying in the freezing temperatures. What did it mean? Was this his future? The hint to some secret magic? An image sent by that hooded demon on the train?

He watched as the form blurred. His mind's eye was suddenly blinded by that formless silver stuff once again, and he lost concentration, retreating back to the conscious world.

He was greeted by a terrible chill, a silver fog and two more of the mobile fridges (he chuckled in his mind and vowed to insult evil things more often). He dimly felt a slight chilling effect, but whatever the mist was, the iceboxes feared it more than Hermione feared low grades, and they avoided it like the plague.

When the carriage finally stopped, Harry felt brave enough to walk again, and did so, Hermione and Ron acting as support. "Thanks, guys," he muttered as they made their way down the steps.

"What, mate, did you think we were gonna leave you behind?"

"Obviously not," Harry snorted, flicking Ron in the ear with the hand draped over the redhead's shoulder, "you'd get one less Christmas present if you did."

Ron scowled at this. "I can drop you right here if you want!" The boys looked at each other, before bursting into laughter, which continued until they heard familiar strutting footsteps.

The gloating voice of Draco Malfoy could be heard above the rumbling of departing carriages. "Is it true, Potter? Did that Dementor really freeze you? I overheard some dirty, ragged old man talking about it."

Harry was unfazed. "If you mean the frigid freezer, he didn't feel you were enough of a threat to freeze," he stated matter-of-factly, "now shove off, Malfunction, I kinda need thawing." As the trio pushed past their foils, Harry noted with satisfaction the slapped-with-a-fish kind of face Malfoy had pulled. Anyone nearby at the right time would have heard something about a blond haired brain-cell killer.

As the three came out of earshot of Malfoy, Hermione and Ron turned to face Harry. "Harry, why you felt the need to- oh, shut up," she snapped; the grin on her face had ruined the effect of her speech, and the two boys had burst into laughter as she spoke. She ended up levitating Harry under the invisibility cloak again, as he had fallen to the floor and cooled down once more, unable to even sit back up in the combined efforts of laughter and frigidity.

The three made their way through the entrance hall, Harry occasionally bumping his head on things as Hermione couldn't see the effects of her spell, and took off for the hospital wing to get Harry checked up. pushing open the door, they set him in the bed which now inexplicably had a golden plaque hung at the foot, which read 'For the Many Mishaps of Harry Potter'. Harry wondered if Fred and George had snuck in over the summer. The theory was Jossed when Madam Pomfrey marched briskly towards the bed and noticed his line of sight.

"Do you like it? I figured I would need that sign, what with the Dementors and your past.

"What's up with the iceboxes, anyway?" Harry wondered, frowning, "how come the one on the train only froze me?"

Madam Pomfrey's eyes widened slightly at this question. "They froze you? They didn't suck out your happiness and leave you with only bad memories?"

"Yeah, they only froze me, but I don't think anyone else was affected by that," he replied, with a questioning glance at Ron, who quickly took over.

"It was maybe a little cold, he spoke, shuddering slightly, "but I don't remember that so much as hearing Ginny's name like we did at the end of last year. Did you see anything, Hermione?"

Hermione had seemed quieter than usual since the icebox incident, as Harry was about to find out why. "I saw Harry freezing to death again," she sniffed, seemingly on the brink of tears, and Harry hugged her from behind, calming her until she abruptly fell into a deep slumber, the stress of the day coupled with magical exhaustion having obviously tired her a great deal.

Harry pulled out his wand and levitated her into his bed, where she unconsciously pulled him into a cuddle. Ron draped the covers over the pair without a word, lest Hermione wake, and he left for the feast after much fussing from Poppy. As the door silently closed, Harry drifted off to a dream about warmth and happiness, hoping beyond all hope that Hermione was experiencing the same.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry if the scenes aren't heartwarming enough. I think I did well, but I don't have anything to compare with so some reviews would be wonderful. That's right! You can insult my writing and intelligence at no extra cost! Best day of your life, I know.<strong>

**Anyway, I didn't mean to make the HHr so blatant, or the change so fast, but a life threatening situation will do that to you, and I think I like how it turned out.**

**Also, foreshadowing. Much foreshadowing. You probably won't spot it all; some is VERY subtle. (At least in my opinion, again I have nothing to compare to.)**

**Finally, I'm proud of the Malfunction nickname I came up with. Reminds me of Snivellous Snape.**


	5. Hospital

**I can't keep on-track enough to write seven books; that's JK Rowling's job.**

* * *

><p>As Harry woke up, he noticed something fairly heavy but soft and warm on his chest, a weight pushing his torso deep into the cushiony mattress. Remembering the day before, he realised that it must be Hermione's head, and didn't bother to open his eyes and check, content with sleeping until the girl woke of her own accord.<p>

He was pulled to consciousness a few hours later by a weight lifting from the area of his chest, and he blearily rubbed his eyes with his right hand, his left reaching for the glasses he usually wore. Oh, wait, he didn't wear them any more. That would take some getting used to. He wondered why nobody realised he hadn't been wearing them yesterday, but reminded himself bitterly that they saw his scar more than his face, and probably wouldn't notice if he broke his nose. After a few minutes of random tangential angst, most of which ended back on the subject of his hated scar, he sat up and bumped heads with someone who had been leaning over him.

With a splitting headache, he finally opened his eyes to see a certain bushy haired girl staring back at him, her headache apparently forgotten in the midst of something much more important. "Harry! Your scar's just... Gone!"

His eyes flew open at this, and he sprung out of bed, before landing in a heap on the floor. His muscles hadn't fully healed from the cold yet, after all.

After a snarky comment and levitating charm from Hermione, Harry was on the bed again, and the girl left to find a mirror. She came back a few minutes later with a wooden handled round mirror, and thrust it into his hands.

Harry's confusion changed to ecstasy as he tried and failed to find his scar. Sure, he could feel a slight tingle where it usually was, but to the outside world he was finally a normal boy. A regular green eyed, black haired scarless boy was gazing back at him, he reminded himself, and he was hard pushed to stop himself jumping for joy and interrupting his healing yet again. So he did the next best thing.

When Madam Pomfrey strode in with a skele-grow potion (she had to be sure, after all), she stopped short at the sight of a giggling Harry with streams of tears running down his face, hugging Hermione and rocking back and forth in time with her.

As they heard footsteps, the two broke apart and both went a red colour that the Weasleys would find impressive. Harry quickly wiped his tears away on the bed sheet, and turned to accept the potion without a word, not trusting his speech at that moment.

He downed the potion and was once again sent into a fit of giggles. "'Mione," he choked through laughter that gradually transformed into coughing, "remember when you bumped my head on the wall?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this. "Yeah, but I don't- wait, I didn't-"

"Yup," he confirmed, failing to regain control of himself, "I now have what feels like splinters in my skull." Hermione was horrified, and Poppy seemed mildly perturbed.

"You had a broken skull and didn't realise?" The medi-witch questioned him, using her patented 'what will I do with you, Potter?' voice.

"My head must've gone numb in the cold," he shrugged, carefully laying a foot on the ground and easing himself off the floor.

"Must you insist on leave the hospital wing right now?" she complained, but Hermione was the one to get through to Harry.

"Do you honestly think that school work is worth more than your life?" She admonished him, fully aware of the hypocrisy in her question. "You're staying here whether you like it or not." And with that, she pushed the weak boy back into bed, threw the covers over him and summoned ropes to bind him in place.

"Er, 'Mione, could you lose the ropes? I promise I won't run off."

"Oh fine, but promise you won't run off, okay?"

"I just did, 'Mione," he reminded her. "By the way, could you send my school-work here until I leave? I don't want to be bored out of my mind, after all."

She agreed to this, vanished the ropes, and left hurriedly to get to whatever lessons she had. Harry glanced at the clock hung on the wall. Quarter past twelve. Joy. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry that the chapter is so short, I'll start working on another immediately, but I felt this was a nice way to end off a chapter so I left it. The reveal of Harry's boggart should make an appearance next chapter, and I can tell you it won't be an icebox, Snivellus, Voldemort or Malfunction.<strong>

**Harry's Animagus form should be somewhere in the next chapter, too, but don't quote that.**

**More foreshadowing towards a few plot points, but you probably won't believe some of the curveballs I'm gonna start throwing soon.**

**The reason behind Harry's lack of scar and much more, coming soon!**


	6. Boggart

**I didn't create Harry Potter out of sheer boredom. That was JK Rowling.**

* * *

><p>In the next few days, Harry was driven to near-insanity by sheer boredom. He had picked Ancient runes and Arithmancy, and when Hermione had come in with work she had informed him that both her and Ron had done the same. He boggled at this; Ron had said he was going to pick the easiest subjects, and Hermione actually had free lessons on her timetable, 'to practice Animagicks', as she told him. It was amazing the amount of change one spell could have on a person.<p>

However, that didn't stop him being bored. He had completed all schoolwork and homework, had brainstormed names to call Voldemort (he settled on Voldemoron), and had come up with a theory about his reaction to the cold (namely, because of his spider Animagus form), but he needed to get out of the hospital wing. He'd be driven crazy!

It was with many thanks, then, that he left the hospital wing early, with Poppy claiming that he would heal better without so much stress.

As he arrived at his first lesson, Defence Against the Dark Arts, he absently noticed Ron and Hermione saying something about 'the idiot Malfoy'.

"What's Malfunction done now?" He asked, and the other two jumped a little and turned to face him.

"You said you wouldn't try to escape!" Were Hermione's first words to him.

"I didn't, Madam Pomfrey seemed to think I couldn't heal in the hospital wing because I was so stressed."

"Oh, well then, I guess that's okay."

"Anyway, mate," Ron interrupted, "Malfoy decided to mess with Hagrid during Care of Magical Creatures and-"

"Wait, Hagrid's the Professor? I should go and congratulate him after DADA."

"Oh, right, you weren't there at the feast, were you? Of course you don't know," Hermione mused, then Ron took over again.

"And Malfoy decided to insult the hippogriff Hagrid was showing us, and it almost attacked him. Hagrid managed to stop it before it killed him, but he's a little shell-shocked at the moment, and I think he went to the hospital wing to get something for idiocy."

"He's just lucky it didn't lose Hagrid his job," seethed Hermione. "If he had, I'd have... PUNCHED him!"

Both Harry and Ron were bowled over by this, and looked at each other, before bursting into enthusiastic applause at her speech.

"I haven't seen Peeves yet," Harry suddenly said. "I hope he's stalking Malfunction."

Professor Lupin arrived at that moment, and started the lesson, still outside the classroom. "Good afternoon, class. Today's shall be a practical lesson, so please follow me." And he led them through a silent corridor and around a corner, letting them into the staffroom.

As they walked in, the first thing the class saw was a wardrobe against the wall, shuddering as whatever was in there struggled to get out. The second thing they saw was a teacher on the other side of the room. Snape sneered, told Lupin something about Neville which Harry didn't pay attention to, and left, his cloak billowing in the non-existent wind.

As the class filed into the room, Professor Lupin pointed at the wardrobe. "Nothing to worry about," he told them, "there's a boggart in there." Most of the class paled at this, but Lupin didn't seem to notice, and turned to them. "Right then, the first thing you need to know is what a boggart is. Can anybody tell me?" Hermione's hand went up and he called on her.

"A boggart is a shape-shifter, and it takes the shape of whatever frightens us the most. Nobody has seen the true form of a boggart because of this."

"A perfect explanation, Hermione, and one that I couldn't have worded any better myself. Now then, Mr Longbottom, why do you think we might have an advantage against this creature?"

"Uh, b-because i-it will be confused about w-what to turn into?" The boy in question stuttered.

"Correct! Now, pay close attention, I will show you the wand movement and incantation to counter a boggart." Everyone stopped their muttering, and turned to face the man, who now had an arm outstretched, with a wand in his hand. "Riddikulus!" Harry felt a slight pain, as if he had been punched somewhere, but he couldn't tell where.

The class copied him a few times, Harry wincing each time, at which point the Professor launched into another speech. "Now, the incantation and wand movement aren't enough to repel a boggart. You need to visualise something humorous, and force the boggart into that form. Mr Weasley, what do you think you are most afraid of?"

"Acromantula, Sir," he told Lupin, and a good portion of the class shuddered.

"Well, Mr Weasley, how do you think you could make a spider seem humorous?"

Ron thought for a second, then grinned. "I would like it to be a surprise Professor. Would that be okay?"

"Certainly," Lupin replied, then turned to the rest of the class. " I would like each of you to think of what you fear the most, then find a way to make it seem funny."

After around two minutes, the boggart was released. Ron stepped forward, and the boggart transformed into a ten foot tall spider. Harry saw Ron pale a little, but the redhead grinned and shouted "Riddikulus!"

There was a deafening crack, and the spider's legs disintegrated, leaving just the body, which shrivelled into a gigantic raisin. Ron snickered and most of the rest of the class laughed openly.

The rest of the class had vanquished the boggart, and now it was Hermione's turn. She had started shivering, and Harry wondered just how bad he. Fear could be, and hoped that she could find a way to make it funny. She stepped forward, and the boggart transformed with a crack.

Harry Potter was curled into a ball, covered in frost and stone cold. Harry could tell by looking that Hermione was in tears; her head was down, she was shaking uncontrollably, and her face was covered by her hands. He stepped forward and gave her a reassuring squeeze, before pointing his wand at the boggart. He didn't even need to say the incantation.

A column of light descended from the high ceiling of the room, and the rest of the class swore they could hear holy music playing in the background. Out of Harry's frigid body came a large golden ring. As it rose, the angelic form of Harry Potter followed the halo, arms and wings outstretched, and eyes closed in a peaceful expression as it ascended towards the heavens.

The entire class, including Lupin, were now on the floor, sides splitting from the inherent hilarity of an angelic Harry. Even Hermione managed a watery smile, and she threw herself into Harry, knocking him into the ground as she gave him a hug to rival Hagrid's in bone-crunchiness.

Harry smiled and hugged her back, to the sound of cheers and whistles, but realised something as he found himself thinking about his Animagus form, which now looked like himself freezing again. He wasn't an Acromantula.

He was a boggart.

* * *

><p><strong>Boom! I'm on a roll! This chapter was a little messy though.<strong>

**Much foreshadowing has been resolved, but even more hasn't and there's probably more coming.**

**I love that word.**

**Foreshadowing.**

**Anyway, no, I didn't change Harry's Animagus form in any way because of reviews. As I've been saying, it was foreshadowed even before Harry's spider transformation, but I'll go more into that next chapter.**


	7. Passage

**No, my Animagus form isn't JK Rowling. She is her own lady. Unless she's a man. O.o**

* * *

><p>As Harry left the staffroom, he went over his Animagus form. It all made sense! He had no idea what that silver orb could have been, but it must have been Lupin's fear, although the only silver orb Harry could think of was the moon. When he had asked to be isolated, either he didn't have a fear or couldn't sense his own fears. He dove into his mind and was surprised. He saw the blurry outline of a box, and when he focused, he could make out the bars of the cage. That made sense too! He had hated being cooped up in the hospital wing. Maybe boggarts didn't like staying in one place too long? Harry certainly didn't, anyway.<p>

He went back through his previous forms. Ron was terrified of spiders; that was obvious. That piece of parchment, though... That could have been Hermione's fear before she saw Harry freeze! It would be... Probably a troll-graded essay. Harry chuckled to himself at that thought. Anyway, since Hermione now feared Harry's death via freezing, it would only make sense that he would see that image twice while around her.

Maybe he saw the fear of whoever he concentrated on. That would explain boggarts' weakness; with the mind of a creature, they couldn't concentrate on only one target. Harry was more lucky, as he had the mind of a human, along with the instincts of a boggart.

His scar had probably disappeared because he had been thinking about how much he hated it. Maybe a boggart could transform into more than just people's fears, but their instincts simply wouldn't allow them?

That silver fog... The Dementors! They probably feared it, whatever it was, so he had at least partially transformed into it.

The bad reaction to the cold might have been because boggarts had that same reaction; the creatures weren't researched very well, because who would want to get close? That meant that there could be all manners of other weaknesses, strengths and secrets to them!

Harry also remembered the pain he had felt when everyone had casted Riddikulus together. He assumed that he had been caught in the magic, but it hadn't been concentrated so he hadn't been affected too badly. When they took turns casting at the boggart, all the magic was concentrated away from him. As for his own Riddikulus, he probably just hadn't noticed the pain. He hadn't noticed a cracked skull, after all.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he automatically turned to go into the gryffindor common room, and realised a moment too late that he had to open it first, planting his face into the portrait. He shook his head in a daze, then realised he didn't know the password. Glancing around, he spotted Ron and Hermione, who let him through, then he pulled them up to the boys' dorm, cast Muffliato, and turned to them.

"I think I know what my Animagus form is." And he relayed his reasonings to the pair. By the end, they were both open-mouthed, and Hermione looked like she would cry again, as Harry hadn't left out the frozen images. He probably should have thought that through, he thought, as he pulled Hermione into yet another hug.

"Mate, I think we might all be magical creatures!" Harry looked up, an eyebrow raised. "Well, you're probably a boggart, Hermione's an owl, which would use magic to sense where people are, and I think I'm a dragon. I saw mine breathe fire, anyway."

That reminded Harry. "We need to find a place to practice transforming!"

"We found a place," Hermione informed him. "There's a passage to the shrieking shack under the whomping willow, and Crookshanks stopped it from moving by pressing the knot on it."

"Well, let's go then!" He pulled the invisibility cloak out of his trunk and pulled it over their heads.

The golden trio snuck outside to the Hogwarts grounds, where Harry decided to make a detour. He ducked out of the cloak and rapped hard on the door to the wooden hut belonging to the gamekeeper of Hogwarts. After a few seconds, the door flew open and Hagrid stood there, welcoming them into his home.

"Congratulations, Professor Hagrid," Harry grinned, laying extra emphasis on the new title. "Sorry me and Hermione weren't there to clap for you."

"Ah, 'salright Harry, ah heard from them during my firs' lesson wha' happened." His beetle eyes widened slightly, and his voice became a bit more forceful. "What're you doing out here, Harry?! Sirius Black's after yeh, I'm not worth dyin' for!"

He tried to drag them back, but Harry slipped back under the cloak. "Even he can't see me under this, Hagrid. Besides, the iceboxes are keeping him out of Hogwarts. If they weren't, Dumbledore would force them out." Hagrid caved to this logic, and stopped making grabs at mid air. Harry decided to push his luck a lot. "Hagrid, do you know anything about Animagus transformations?"

The giant of a man blanched a little, and shifted uncomfortably. "Well, ah, mebbe a little," he said evasively, and Harry beamed.

"Great! So you're an Animagus." From Hagrid's shocked, fearful look, he had hit the nail on the head. "We want to be Animagi too, so we're practicing. Could you supervise us, just in case of emergency?"

Hagrid eased a little, and nodded slowly. "How far've yeh got?" He asked, seemingly uncaring that the magic was illegal, or maybe he just didn't know.

"We think we know our forms, and we've all managed to change a little," Hermione supplied, to which Hagrid carried on nodding.

"Th' place where ah practised is gone now, though," he told them. "Got anywhere else?"

"How big is your Animagus form, Hagrid?" Hermione asked him; she knew the passage wouldn't fit the big man.

"It's actually a mouse," he confessed, obviously embarrassed. "I never liked bein' in the spotligh', guess it went through to my Animagus form."

Hermione squealed in delight. "We can use the shrieking shack, after all!"

"Isn' that place haunted by ghosts, Hermione?" The shaggy man asked. "Well, I s'pose we won' know 'til we go there. Are we gonna go now?"

"Yup," the three teenagers chorused, and they led him outside and to the whomping willow.

* * *

><p><strong>Three chapters in one day! I really have no life .-.<strong>

**Thus, the golden trio have a place to practice and a supervisor to help in doing so. It just made sense to me that Hagrid, who's crazy about creatures, would be an unregistered Animagus, and a mouse at that.**

**I still don't know how long I'm going to go with this, but I'm hoping to carry on past the seventh year, and into the trio's jobs or something.**


	8. Voldemoron

**JK Rowling is responsible for creating Voldemoron. The character, not the name.**

* * *

><p>The golden trio, along with a fairly large black mouse, made their way to the whomping willow. Unfortunately, Crookshanks wasn't there to open the way, so they couldn't get into the passage.<p>

Harry had an idea. Concentrating on Ron, he transformed. He only gained the spider legs again, but it was enough and after trying out the new limbs, he shot one into the knot on the killer tree, which twitched slightly and stopped trying to murder them. They lowered themselves down into the passage, Harry marvelling at his newfound dexterity, and practically flew through the corridor to the shack at the other end.

When they got there, the three youngest tried to transform. Harry managed to gain an exoskeleton, turning his skin darker than his hair and giving him a massive strength boost; he could punch cracks into the brickwork of the passage, and gave Hagrid a good challenge in an arm wrestle.

Then he had another idea. If Harry transformed into something more humanoid, wouldn't he get a better grasp of how to use animagicks properly? He looked through the group's fears. Spiders weren't humanoid, Harry didn't want to freeze himself, and even if it didn't hurt, he would make Hermione panic. He himself feared being stuck in one place, which was as far from humanoid as was physically possible, being abstract and all. Hagrid's fear, on the other hand...

Harry gave an evil smirk, unseen by anyone else, and transformed. The fearful shouts from Hagrid pierced the night, and many people in Hogsmead took extra measures to avoid the now re-haunted shrieking shack. Back inside the run-down building, Hermione and Ron were laughing uncontrollably, and Hagrid was backed against the wall, the wood creaking under his weight.

"Hello once again, Rubeus," came the voice of Lord Voldemort, "I hope you have been keeping well." The Dark Lord stopped for a second, before collapsing in a heap next to his two best friends, cackling along with them, the sound eerie coming from the most feared wizard ever. "Sorry, Hagrid, I forgot to mention," he struggled to get out, "my Animagus form's a boggart."

Hagrid stepped outside the room, and Harry was fairly certain he was hyperventilating. The boy-who-lived transformed back, and when Hagrid came back in, explained himself. "Okay, so I decided that a humanoid form would be easier to transform into. Ron's scared of spiders, I'm scared of being cooped up, and Hermione's scared of me freezing. I didn't really fancy freezing, so I chose your greatest fear, Hagrid. Sorry I didn't warn you."

Hagrid recovered fairly quickly after that, and Harry gave him the Guide and a quill, which he now took everywhere, to make up for it.

"So I jus' write in it, then?"

"Sure," Hermione replied. "Anything you want to know, up to a certain point, at least."

Hagrid started scribbling furiously, and Harry looked over his shoulder to see. He sighed, but at least Hagrid would have fun.

'How to train your dragon.'

By the end of the day (midnight), Harry could transform into more humanoid forms, and could even control who to change into, as well as change his features individually. He spent much of the session as Malfunction, putting himself down and allowing the use of Riddikulus on him. That had been fun, if a little painful.

Ron had transformed much of his body into a pitch-black dragon, with royal blue, slitted eyes, and two rows of spikes down his back, tipped with the same fiery red colour as his human hair. He had been curious, and after an hour's practice had managed to breathe fire; a small purple ball of light that was affected like gravity, and that exploded after a few seconds. Hagrid put out the fire with an Aguamenti, while Harry and Hermione commented about the likeness to grenades.

Hermione had perfected her transformation; she was now a tawny owl, feathers somehow as bushy as her own hair, and had spent the last hour or so trying to figure out how to fly. She managed it in the end, albeit a little clumsily, and declared that she would get over her fear of heights by the end of the year. She also found she could tell where anyone was; Mr Weasley was currently at the Burrow, and Malfunction was near the dungeons, along with a certain poltergeist. Hermione snickered and relayed the information to the others.

As they bid farewell to Hagrid, Harry made sure that Hagrid would keep everything he had seen a secret, which the giant had gladly agreed to. He also left the Guide with Hagrid, asking him to use it to catch up on his education, as he had been expelled during his third year.

The three friends trooped to the dorms, where Harry found, to his pleasant surprise, that Hermione had taken to sleeping in his bed with him. Before the three went to sleep, Harry bounced an idea off them. They agreed whole-heartedly, and Harry looked forward to the next day.

* * *

><p><strong>Voldermoron makes an appearance! I love having <strong>**full**** control over the storyline. It lets me put in random moments like Voldie-boggart-Harry.**

**Another small cliffhanger; what is tomorrow's plan? Find out next time!**

**This would be the perfect time to abandon fic and cause teeth-grinding.**


	9. Shift

**I own Harry Potter. (JK, Rowling.)**

* * *

><p>Harry woke up bright and early, ready to enact his plan. He dressed into his robes, although he technically didn't need them, and he changed. Lord Voldemort was now standing in the gryffindor boys' dorms, smirking to himself. He pulled on Harry's invisibility cloak and snuck through the common room, making his way to breakfast.<p>

The teachers and students were in a panic. The most feared wizard of all time had just walked calmly into the great hall, and had sat next to Malfoy at the slytherin table, helping himself to fried egg, toast and pumpkin juice. The Dark Lord was given plenty of space, but he felt that was rude.

"What, are you calling me fat? There's a lot of table-area going to waste, you know." The slytherins, half with their wands trained on the man, slowly shuffled towards him. Harry had to transform his mouth to conceal the grin splitting his face, and anyone who didn't know better only saw a good-natured smile, which looked unnatural pasted on the most evil man ever, and frightened everyone even more.

Voldemoron felt a presence behind him. "Oh, good morning, Headmaster Dumbledore!" He spoke through a slice of buttered toast, "I trust that you've been doing well? No... Security problems in the school? I do hope, however, that the Dementors aren't the only thing keeping Sirius Black out of the school. I've heard that all it takes is one spell, one that even a third-year could get right."

Of course, Harry had researched a little overnight, and had found the spell to create that silver mist that the fridge freezers were so scared of. He had decided to master an animal Patronus, if only to found out what form it would take.

"Lord Voldemort," Professor Dumbledore stated.

"Well done, you aren't completely blind after all these years. Tell me, are the glasses just for show? Or is your vision all blurry without them, like my own worst enemy?" Dumbledore seemed mildly perturbed at Voldemort's question, but was saved from having to react. "Speaking of, where is Potter? I don't suppose he died last year, did he? I did so want to kill him myself," the master of all evil pouted. "Well, I must be going now. I dare say you'll be seeing a lot of me from this moment forth." With that, he got up and marched out of the hall, feeling the eyes of both the staff and the students on the back of his head.

Over the next few hours, Voldemort attended Harry's classes and sat in Harry's seat. Ron and Hermione seemed perfectly at ease with the situation, giving him ideas about how to murder Harry in the most painful way possible, but the teachers' attempts to reverse whatever magic was doing this had all failed; they eventually decided that Voldemort was completely crazy and had confounded Ron and Hermione, but that they wouldn't make the first move and anger him. This carried on until the DADA lesson, where Lupin decided he'd seen enough.

"Riddikulus!" The students laughed, especially the muggleborns, and Harry felt as if he was being stabbed by little needles.

"Stop!" The laughter stopped. "Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Professor Lupin's eyes were twinkling a little as he smiled at Lord Voldemort, who now wore a black helmet and made strange sounds whenever he breathed. "Care to explain yourself, boggart?"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I would prefer you call me... Actually I never thought of a name, did I? It's so hard to make one up on the spot like this. Let's go with... Shift." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "What do you guys think? Shift?"

"Well, I can't think of anything better, mate."

"I can't either, Shift. Congratulations on the name, by the way."

"Thanks," he grinned, then he Shifted into Ron.

"Hey! No using our faces!"

Shift turned to Ron. "What about Harry's then? He isn't here, it couldn't hurt."

Hermione sighed. "If you must."

Shift was now Harry, and he turned to discover himself at wandpoint.

"Where is Harry?" His voice was now ice-cold, and Harry shivered involuntarily.

"I assure you, Professor, Harry is fine. Although I can't find him either, he just told me to distract everyone so they wouldn't notice him gone. He said he'd be back tomorrow morning."

"I will use Riddikulus on Harry, when I see him tomorrow. Understand?"

"Y-yes Sir."

"Very well. Now, today we will be..." Lupin's voice faded as Harry thought furious. What could they possibly do? He went through a list of spells in his mind. Alohomora, Expelliarmus, Finite Incantatem, Stupefy...

The Guide.

* * *

><p><strong>Lupin is on Harry's trail! Can he keep his Animagus form a secret? Find out next time!<strong>

**This chapter was largely useless; a break chapter, if you would. I only added the plot twist at the end, as my writing style is to outline the main plot points, start writing and see what I end up with. Works fairly well, all things considered.**


	10. Wardrobe

**Harry Potter will never belong to me, no matter how many digits the chapter number gets.**

* * *

><p>Harry tore down to Hagrid's hut after the DADA lesson, and almost broke the door down with frantic knocking. The giant man swung it open and invited him in.<p>

"Wha's wrong wi' yeh, Harry? Need help wi-"

"Hagrid, I need to borrow the Guide for the night, Lupin figured out that Voldemort was a boggart and thinks he kidnapped me! He's going to use Riddikulus on me tomorrow!"

"Whoa, Harry! Slow down!" Harry breathed long and deep. "Now, start a' the beginnin'. Lupin found out abou' the boggart? How?"

"I think he remembered the lesson before, when we had to fend off a boggart, so he used Riddikulus and I transformed, obviously," Harry told him, shaking his head. "Guess I shouldn't have come up with such a big prank... I just wanted to test my transformation while still doing my lessons..."

Hagrid nodded, stood up, and pulled the tattered red book from a nearby shelf. "I wan' it back by tomorrow evenin'," he told Harry, then chuckled. "I need ter catch up on me magic, after all!"

Harry smiled gratefully, then waved Hagrid goodbye and sprinted to the gryffindor common room, passing Gred and Forge, with whatever they were selling, and up the stairs to the dorms. Pulling out the chewed quill once again, he yanked the book open and wrote.

The next day, Harry and co. were greeted in the corridors by a less-than-welcome face, who pulled them into an empty classroom. He had barely turned to the man when he heard the dreaded spell. "Riddikulus!"

Nothing happened. Lupin frowned a little, before shouting, "Finite Incantatem!"

Nothing. "Well, all seems to be in order, Mr Potter. Twenty points from gryffindor for failure to show up for classes yesterday."

Only twenty points? Harry had gotten lucky. The Riddikulus may have hurt a lot, but at least Lupin no longer suspected him.

The Professor had ushered the trio out of the classroom, and they were just about to turn the corner and out of the man's sight.

"Riddikulus." Harry's trick hadn't been enough. He had Shifted into Voldemort and put up a glamour charm. Lupin had cast the first spell, but Harry had barely flinched; Lupin had been trying to change Harry's form, not Voldemort's, and the magic hadn't worked. Still under the glamour, he Shifted back into Harry just in time for the charm to be dispelled.

That was where it had gone wrong. Lupin had obviously seen some proof that Harry wasn't himself; maybe he had blurred ever so slightly as the charm was forced off, he thought. Anyway, the second Riddikulus had hit him square in the back, and he had been stunned shortly after.

The boggart-who-lived woke up in a dark area, and stood up. He felt around him for anything of note and immediately his hands found walls on either side. He kicked forwards and back and came into contact with more walls. He realised that Lupin must have locked him in the wardrobe. He found himself respecting the teacher; he had been furious when he apparently found Harry gone, and obviously cared about his students as much as Dumbledore.

That wasn't important right now, however, as Harry was growing increasingly restless, just like he had in the hospital wing. He would go insane at this rate! The boy kicked forwards as hard as he could, and achieved nothing more than a broken foot, as Lupin had removed all weapons, including shoes.

There was nothing for it. He would have to try Shifting into the Acromantula form, without Ron as a catalyst. He concentrated on the image he'd seen while with Ron, and opened his eyes. He could see in the dark now, and looked at his person. He had been completely stripped except for light grey boxers, but he certainly hadn't been stripped of power. Lupin had obviously never seen a boggart Shift without a fear catalyst. That was lucky, to say the least.

Harry was covered head to toe in a glistening black. Four extra limbs curled forward from behind him, and closer inspection revealed each to be separated into three segments. Unfortunately the tips weren't exactly sharp, but really, what had he been expecting, needles? Harry's feet had no toes, but instead were covered in bendy exoskeleton, almost like close-fitting socks. His hands were similar, looking very much like black mittens.

The walls surrounding him had a wooden texture, and the one wall with a tall, thin slit on proved his suspicions. He braced himself and launched a spider leg at the door, then winced in pain. It had only rattled slightly; Lupin must have reinforced the wardrobe, and Harry couldn't get much leverage in this small space. He leaned on the door, giving his legs the greatest space away from the door possible, and put all his might into a single swing from two legs.

The door burst open, the reinforcement enchantment shattering from the sheer force, and Harry stumbled out, exhausted. He only just noticed how light-headed he had been; apparently the reinforcement spell didn't allow air through, and he had been dying of oxygen deprivation. Good to know.

Still with a headache, Harry did the first thing his mind suggested and looked into a mirror, which was conveniently stood up next to a few papers. He stared at the reflection for several minutes, poking himself in the eyes to insure they were his. His eight eyes. A pair above his regular ones, another on his temples, and a third under those on his cheeks. They were all a brilliant green, the colour filling the entire eye and seemingly glowing.

He looked for other changes. His hands and feet were as he had seen them before, as was the rest of his body. His hair, however, had somehow become a similar silver to that of the Patronus, contrasting against the night black of the rest of his body, and was now at shoulder length, though still as messy as ever, if not more so.

After a few more minutes (or maybe hours) of checking for any other changes, Harry tore his eyes from the mirror and began searching for some robes. He couldn't go anywhere in just underwear, after all. He had to look somewhat presentable. After a minute, he slapped his forehead. He could create his own clothes! He Shifted his robes on, walked towards the door, and stopped.

Shift walked calmly back to the mirror. There he was, in his full unclothed glory. He Shifted his robes on.

He Shifted his robes on.

* * *

><p><strong><strong>Harry is stuck in Acromantula form! What will it take him to become human again? Find out next time!<strong>**

**This has gone decidedly off-canon now, and I don't regret it. Sure, the general canon events will unfold, such as Sirius showing Peter to the trio, but I plan to make the school year VERY different. Or not. I don't exactly plan much.**


	11. Labyrinth

**I am not arachnophobic. That is perfect proof that I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>The boy-who-was-now-half-spider catapulted himself through corridors and around corners, trying to gain a sense of where he was. He had been to every corridor in Hogwarts, barring secret passages and the dungeons, so he ought to know where he had been locked away.<p>

The dungeons! He had been warned once by Hermione that it was a labyrinth, filled with all sorts of deadly creatures. Back in first year, he'd very much wanted to live, and thus had never come near it, let alone inside. But now here he was, wishing he had, as then he would know at least part of the labyrinth layout. He made two lefts in a row and came face to face with... A locked cage. He turned to leave but was stopped by a small, pitiful mewing.

A single spell flew to the surface of Harry's mind. "Riddikulus!" Suddenly the cage was open, and the black and white kitten inside darted off around the corner.

Turning another corner, the acromantula-boy was struck speechless by a twenty-foot long serpent, which Harry recognised only too well from the scales. A protective instinct welled up inside him, urging him to run for his life, but he ignored it with great difficulty, leapt forward and stabbed two legs into its exposed eyes. The limbs weren't exactly made for stabbing, but they did a decent job of blinding the beast, and suddenly he wasn't scared. Maybe the eyes did something to spiders' minds, he mused, ducking a blind tail swipe from the king of serpents with ease.

Harry had a problem; how was he supposed to kill a basilisk without the sword of gryffindor? It had been hard enough before, but now... He had an idea. He may not be able to Shift much, but what if he only Shifted his voice box?

Five minutes later, the basilisk lay dead at Harry's feet, murdered by that fatal sound. Harry waited another five; it was bad enough being part spider, having a rooster voice would do anything but help him.

Harry turned a corner and his heart lifted. Light! He was at the exit! His heart sank as a much brighter, much redder light drowned out the first. It bobbed right back up like a yo-yo when he found, not a dragon as he had expected, but a minuscule fire-breathing chicken.

The spider boy found that he very much liked raw chicken. Maybe it was something to do with his current form, maybe it was a boggart thing, or maybe fire breathing chickens cooked themselves. Either way, he was now fed and somewhat rested, and could carry on towards that light he had seen.

He broke through the locked iron door, which hadn't been reinforced for some odd reason, and sprinted up the staircase nearby. He bolted past Snape's classroom, up another flight of stairs, and out of the dungeons.

The gryffindor common room was in an uproar. A spider... Thing in grey boxer shorts had climbed through the portrait, marched up to Head Boy Percy Weasley, and demanded to see his brother Ron. Percy, obviously shaken, had stammered something about Dumbledore's office, and the spider thing was gone.

Ron and Hermione were having a bad day, to say the least. Lupin had most likely killed Harry (Hermione had been sobbing into the redhead's shoulder since Lupin's full body bind had worn off of them), and if they wanted to possibly see him again, they would have to tell Dumbledore about being illegal Animagi. They were about to knock on the office door when their day took a turn for the better.

"Guys! Don't knock!" Harry couldn't say anything else, having been winded, even through his natural armour, by a Hermione-shaped bullet. It was Ron who spoke next, being the only one with the energy left to do so.

"Harry! Thank god you're alive, mate. What the bloody hell happened?"

The spider-who-lived, now hugging Hermione with six limbs (Ron winced a little), took a deep breath, before launching into the events previous. By the time he was done, the other two were staring at him, open mouthed and horrified. "But he did it because he thought I was in danger," he tried to convince them, "besides, boggarts probably don't need air. How was he supposed to know that I did?"

"He should have checked! He should have-"

Harry interrupted her mid sentence. "Hermione, try to find him now."

Hermione concentrated and told them, "he's at Hogsmead..."

"Exactly, he's trying to find a lead on where I am. This isn't going to change until we tell him the truth, since I can't Shift."

"Wait, what?!" Ron shouted, his voice cracking.

"Did I leave that part out?"

Nods.

He sighed. "Basically, I can't Shift out of this form. I did manage to change my voice box so I could kill the basilisk-"

"There was a basilisk?!"

"Yes, 'Mione, about twenty feet long this time. As I was saying, it took me five minutes just to Shift my voice box back. I think it's because I transformed into a non-humanoid form without a fear catalyst. If I hadn't, though, I would have died."

He considered for a second, then decided to recount the other encounters. "I also saw a fire breathing chicken, which I ate, and a boggart, which I used Riddikulus on."

"Harry, how did you cast it?"

"Huh?"

Hermione elaborated. "Where is your wand?"

"Lupin has it."

"_Professor_ Lupin, Harry." He nodded absently. She ignored this. "How did you use magic if you didn't have a wand?"

"I just waved my leg." Harry's thoughts ground to a halt as he processed his own statement, and he stuck out a leg. "Wingardium Leviosa!" With the iconic swish and flick, Ron was now floating close to the ceiling. "Well, what do you know... Guess it must be because my legs are magical."

Wasting no more time goggling at Harry's hidden abilities, the trio set off for the shrieking shack, the only way they knew to get to Hogsmead.

* * *

><p><strong>The labyrinth may return in the future, I don't really know. Anyway, Harry's going to tell Lupin! What will the man think?<strong>

**This fic will probably update less often now, as I'm also working on another one, Die for 'Chu. Check it out, but be warned, it's M for a reason.**


	12. Idea

**The difference between copyrights and dementors is that one sucks up your soul, and the other is cloaked.**

* * *

><p>The group stumbled in their hurries to the Whomping Willow, Harry accidentally tripping both himself and the others with his spider limbs every so often. By the time they got to the Willow, Ron was ten feet in front, having decided that the journey would be too much for his heart otherwise. They leapt into the passage, not even bothering to register the tree in their haste, and sprinted down the corridor to the Shrieking Shack.<p>

They had never seen Hogsmeade, having been too caught up in Harry's condition to glance out the carriage window, the night they had arrived at Hogwarts. It was understandable then, that Harry, who was now under the invisibility cloak to prevent a riot, stood there gaping for a few minutes after he had left the shack.

He snapped out of his daze, wistfully gazing once more at Honeydukes, before panicking as he realised he had lost sight of Ron and Hermione. The invisible-spider-boy-who-lived calmed himself, reasoning that the two had simply thought he had gone ahead and 'followed'. He leapt onto the roof of a nearby thatched cottage and skittered to the peak, shielding his sensitive eyes from the burning sunlight and peering into the streets. He spotted his best friends, but his foot slipped in his momentary relief.

Harry found himself halfway to the ground, having stopped in midair. He sighed in relief before opening his eyes, turning to his saviour in gratitude.

Of course, it would just be weird to thank your own four massive spider legs, so he didn't. Instead, he shouted something about waiting up and raced after the rest of the group. They turned, horrified, and Harry realised his mistake. He looked at his hand in abject terror, noting the object wrapped around it.

The invisibility cloak.

The invisibility cloak that he had been wearing.

He was shoved into an alleyway by Hermione, who hurriedly snatched the watery cloth from him, and swept it over his head, once again concealing his spidery form. She then cast six stunning spells in a random pattern at a wall, then motioned to Harry to follow and slowly stepped out into the blinding sunlight.

"What did you do that for, 'Mione?" He asked, curious, and she whispered back.

"Because now anybody who saw us together now thinks I just stunned you. Acromantula can shrug off a single stunner so I shot six to make it more realistic."

Harry nodded in understanding, then reminded himself that nobody could see him. Speaking of seeing him, though... "Why didn't you just use your owl sensing to tell where I was, anyway?"

"I did try, but apparently the cloak protects whoever's wearing it from any sort of magical detection. Invisibility cloaks don't usually do that, Harry. Yours is very special, so you should take good care of it from now on. You never know when something like that can be useful." She said this in one breath, and Harry chuckled.

"I'll keep that in mind."

The search for Professor Lupin continued for much of that day, but they failed to find him before the afternoon ended in a bright orange glow, which quickly became a cold blue as a sweeping cold consumed them, and Harry once again found himself on the floor, shivering, the temperature being too much to cope with. Then he thought of Hermione, who was once again embracing him, this time on the stone floor in the middle of a street in the middle of an icebox invasion, and a fire lit in his heart.

He stood up, willing away his frigid fatigue, and turned to the dementor, his cloak off once again and his eight green eyes blazing. He calmly stepped towards the emotion reaper, his snow-white hair and smooth black skin encrusted with shimmering crystals of ice, and banished the memory of a petrified Hermione, replacing it with...

There were too many happy memories to pick, so he settled on all of them. Anybody still looking, discounting Ron and Hermione who were by now used to the unexpected, would have fainted at what came next.

A half-spider stood together with three perfect Patroni. The four entities pressed forwards, keeping pace with each other, and the dementor wouldn't have left any faster if it could apparate. After making sure it was gone for good, they turned back to the other two.

And Harry collapsed, his magic unable to support his stone-cold body as he screamed in unadulterated pain.

Trying to reach for his glasses, the white-haired boy remembered the events of the previous day, and stifled a moan as he found his entire body locking up, the cold having stiffened his joints. He lifted his head with great difficulty and studied his surroundings. It was extremely dark, but his night vision found him inside the damp walls of the Shack. Not exactly what he expected, but he was still a spider so couldn't exactly go to Madam Pomfrey. He felt three warm objects near his body and lifted the covers.

A pair of owls and a squashed-faced cat slept, heating the boy from the inside out. Crookshanks was curled up on his chest, and the owls we're stood up, each having found a spot under his arm and snuggled up. Harry knew not to bother the cat, who was currently breathing sleepily, but stroked Hedwig and scratched her under the chin, just where she liked it. He then chuckled in his mind and did the same to Hermione, hoping to receive the same satisfied purr that his own white owl made.

He didn't, however, expect it when it came, and nearly died trying to hold the laughter in, while simultaneously nearly fainting from the sheer cuteness.

Feeling less achy now, and insanely happier, the boy assessed his current situation. Lupin would lock him away the instant the man laid eyes upon him. However, it seemed like he wouldn't return to Hogwarts until he found Harry Potter, so he might not show up during classes.

Now, what did Harry have at his disposal? Massive strength, for one. Also wandless spells and extra mobility. He'd have to test which were easiest and hardest, but he suspected that transfiguration would sit on one extreme or the other, what with his broken boggart status. At that, he remembered the glamour charm and slapped himself in the face. This didn't hurt, however, So the boy chalked up high defence as an extra advantage.

He was stuck. He had never learned many spells in school, which he thought was a major flaw of the best magical school in Britain. He didn't have any natural ability, let alone one that would come into play during combat. He was small and hard to hit, definitely a plus, but the only thing he had learned about combat was to drop your wand and summon snakes. He had Ron and Hermione at his side, but he couldn't expect them to protect him, and besides, he didn't want to just sit back while others went to battle.

That was a slytherin's job, and Harry wasn't a slytherin.

That brought him to another thought. Why was Harry's Animagus form a boggart, anyway? Boggarts weren't exactly good creatures, but Harry would like to think he was. The question had bothered his subconscious but until now, he had never realised. Maybe he _was_ supposed to be in slytherin, after all. He remembered Dumbledore's words about a true gryffindor and wrenched himself away from his self-deprecating thoughts. An idea came to him. Not a very convincing idea at first, but it became more so each second it stuck in his mind.

Boggarts weren't feared, it was what they _could_ be that was. Hermione had said that an Animagus form could be affected by anything in the wizard's life. What about that time he had been feared as the heir of slytherin, and as the one who opened the chamber of secrets? It wasn't a twelve-year-old boy they had feared, it was the fact that he could be something else entirely. And so he became something else entirely, he thought with a grimace. A half-spider. A useful half spider, but a creepy thing none the less.

Which brought him back to his abilities. Except this time, he had an ever so slightly better train of thought, loaded with bite-sized bits of newfound knowledge. He was a _spider_. What could a spider do? Crawl around, see in the dark, have a venomous bite, and create super-strong webs. Bingo. There was something else to learn. Webs would be exceptionally useful, for... Trapping enemies. Seems a little slytherin, but hey, he could also use venomous bites, to... Kill trapped enemies. Crawling around and night vision were also slytherin's calling. Harry sighed. Of course he would be stuck as a slytherin creature. He'd have to try and Shift soon, or he'd convince himself he was evil.

Now, what else? Harry felt his point about the lack of learning at Hogwarts was solid, and bounced a thought off the walls of his mind like a rubber ball. What if he set up a class of some sort? Extra-curricular classes teaching spells useful in combat? Hogwarts only really dealt with household spells, so what if he took information from the restricted section of the library and relayed it to others in his year, below, and maybe even above? Surely people would be willing, even glad, to learn magic from the great Harry Potter.

Sure, he'd be abusing his popularity, but students needed to learn how to defend themselves and Harry felt he could be a decent teacher. He quickly made up his mind on a great many things. For example, he wouldn't learn from the Guide, because if somebody asked what book he'd learned any of it from, they'd find out about it and take it from Hagrid. However, he _would_ be searching the library for a book on Animagicks, and teach that first, telling them that he had adapted the method, as he was sure the textbook version wouldn't be even similar.

With so many thoughts flooding his mind, it was a wonder Harry managed to get back to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Seems like chapters are getting longer! I'm going to start the next one straight away, and I hope it'll turn out even half as well as I think this one did.<strong>

**Harry decides to set up extra curricular stuff! Who will join the first lesson, if anyone? Will he ever be un-stuck as a spider? Or will he come to accept his new form? Find out next time!**

**I didn't plan a single moment of this chapter, and I'm extremely glad for that. My personal favourite part was the reasoning for Harry's boggart Animagus, which I hadn't thought about at all before, but I feel that I nailed it.**


	13. Dobby

**Even magic can't supply me with the copyrights to Harry Potter.**

* * *

><p>As Ron ducked into the Shack, Harry dropped everything he was carrying. This was nothing, but it was the thought that counted.<p>

In the redhead's arms was a bag filled past the brim with dead mice and rats, and on his face was a look of bemusement and a slight tinge of relief. "Why the bloody hell would you want all these, Hermione? I know you're an owl and all, but I don't see how you and Hedwig could possibly eat all these! Also, I hope you're happy. I had to get past the spiders alone this time!"

Hermione, still an owl, clicked a sarcastic apology, which Ron accepted, knowing he wouldn't get any better, before he sat down and poured the rodents onto the wooden floor. "That enough for you? Lucky Hagrid gave me a few, said it was for an obnoxious owl..."

Ron's cries of pain as an owl bit through his fingers flew right over Harry's head. He was getting increasingly angry with everything. After a few minutes of pacing, a few more of rocking back and forth, and a game involving trying his hardest not to smash everything into dust, he'd had enough.

"I'M GOING OUTSIDE!" The others forgot their bickering and stared as he stood up, grabbed a thin blanket off the bed, shoved some mice into it, and left with Hedwig clinging to his exoskeletal shoulder.

Ron and Hermione found him flat on his face in the corridor; his aches and pains had caught up with him. They dragged him back to the bed, glad that his skin protected him from scrapes, and returned the mice back to their rightful place in the pile.

When Harry woke up, he found himself once more roped to the bed, and sighed a long sigh. "If I could Shift right now, I would be an evil spider-Harry freezing to death. If I have to be locked in a room with my fears, why shouldn't you?"

Ron's voice came from the right. "Because, your fear _is_ the room, mate." Harry sighed again, then remembered a snippet of his thoughts the night before.

"Guys, I want to start a class to teach people how to do spells which are actually useful."

Hermione gaped for a second, then shook her head to clear her mind, and answered gleefully. "I think that's a brilliant idea, Harry! What're you going to teach them first? How will the lessons be set out? Where will you teach? Will it be secret or will you ask Dumbledore?" The questions kept on coming, and Harry suddenly felt much closer to the size of a non-magical spider.

"Uh, Hermione," Ron ventured, "Harry can't answer every question you throw at him."

The girl blushed lightly and stopped listing things for Harry to teach. The spider-boy interrupted the silence. "So what'll we do about this, then? I can't just go up to everyone and make an announcement that 'Shift the boggart, also known as me, will be holding combat classes every Thursday afternoon, after Defence Against the Dark Arts,' now can I?"

Ron grinned evilly.

Hermione smiled sweetly.

Harry grimaced resignedly.

"Hello, gryffindor." Shift, in his new white robes ("The black ones make me look naked!"), took a small bow and continued. "My name is Shift, and I am a boggart stuck in this half spider form. I gained a human level of intelligence, and became really rather bored. I happened to hear from Hermione and Ron here that the education in Hogwarts is severely lacking in useful spells, et cetera, and so I have decided to hold a class teaching everyone here about these spells, from the simple Expelliarmus to the much more complex Patronus. We will be studying a different spell each Thursday at seven PM, starting with a little surprise, and if you would like to know more, just come and see me during any meal. If you have any friends in other houses who would like to come, by all means, bring them. Thank you."

And with that he spun on his heel, white cloak swishing, and exited the common room.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?" Hermione and Ron's chorus echoed in Harry's ears as he turned to them.

He glared at them. "Ye- actually, not really, no," he corrected himself, surprised it had gone so well.

The news of Shift's lessons spread like wildfire, and dozens of students approached him at lunch for details, including Fred and George Weasley, who confirmed that everyone knew that the mild-mannered Voldemoron was Shift, and commended him on his brilliant prank. Unfortunately he hadn't the slightest clue where the class could be held, as the Shack had the Whomping Willow guarding it, so he had to turn them all down until a later date.

Ron had been spending his free time that day practicing his Animagus transformation, which he had now perfected except a little skin over his heart, and searching the restricted section for Animagick books with Hermione in Harry's stead. He had found one, skimmed through to check for usefulness, and handed it to Hermione to recheck. They had then made their way to the Shack, where Harry was pacing literal holes into the ground.

"Oi, mate, you'll ruin the Shack if you keep that up! Not that it's in top condition in the first place," he mused, setting down the heavy book on the bed. Harry, a dead mouse in his hand, sat down and pulled the book onto his lap using his free hand. He found that surprisingly difficult, however, and held the mouse's tail in his mouth to free his other hand. Ron looked at the mouse, expecting to gag, but instead feeling a pang of hunger. He groaned.

"Are you kidding me?" When the others raised an eyebrow each, he explained. "I think we all eat mice," he complained, and Harry laughed. "It's not funny! How am I supposed to enjoy a meal when I eat MICE? It's not right!" He paused. "Oh, and Hagrid's a mouse."

The trio quickly switched to rats.

Harry, a rat's tail in his mouth, pondered over the book once more in his lap. "This book is perfect!" He exclaimed after a few minutes reading. "It's also pretty similar to our method, so I could feasibly say I adapted it." His face fell. "I still can't figure out a place though."

"Try asking Hagrid?"

Harry sent a withering look in Ron's direction, before answering. "Hagrid didn't have a place for our Animagus forms and his hut's too easy to spy on."

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked, but he shook his head.

"Dobby?" Ron joked, but Harry's face lit up.

"That might just work," he half-cheered, and raised his voice a little. "Dobby?"

With a tiny pop, the fully-dressed house elf appeared. "Dobby is so excited to see Mr Harry Potter," he chirped, apparently unconcerned about his current form. "What can Dobby do for Mr Harry Potter, Sir?"

"...F-for a start, you can call me Harry, Dobby," Harry managed, still wondering how Dobby could possibly not panic at the sight of a half-spider Harry Potter. "I don't want to be your master, after all, I want to be your friend."

Dobby beamed at this, tears leaking out of his gigantic eyes. "Thank you very much, Harry, Sir!" He cried, and Harry chuckled embarrassedly.

"Well Dobby, I was wondering if you knew where I could fit around thirty people in one room for a practical class. We're going to be doing something illegal but not bad, so we need it to be spy-proof."

The elf gasped and clapped his hands together. "Dobby knows a place, Harry!" The boy-who-lived was pleased that he had now dropped the 'Sir', but most of his attention was on the answer to his problem.

"Go on, Dobby," he urged, and the house elf bounced a little in reply.

"Dobby is calling it the Come and Go Room, but the other elves is calling it the Room of Requirement! Dobby can show Harry and his friends right now, if Harry isn't busy, Sir!"

Harry winced at the 'Sir', but he ignored it. "That'd be great, Dobby, thanks."

The elf put out a hand and said "hold on, Sirs and Miss!" They did, and were whisked away to the seventh floor corridor. Harry sat down, deciding that he much preferred flying to this, and Hermione sat next to him, seeming fairly dizzy herself, but Ron didn't seem very badly affected and helped the two up after they'd rested for a minute.

"Harry and friends must just walk past the tapestry and think about what they want," he explained.

"Thanks, Dobby, you're a lifesaver." The elf bowed happily and was gone with a pop.

* * *

><p><strong>Two long chapters in a day! Dobby and the RoR make an appearance! Harry is setting up a class! It's year five in year three!<strong>

**But not quite.**

**Shift is going to teach in 'secret' and it's going to be amazing. That's all I can think of. It's late.**


	14. Requirement

**This copyright thing is getting on my nerves. I'm running out of jokes to make!**

* * *

><p>Ron found Shift laying face down on the single bed in the Shack. "Oi, what's up, Shift?"<p>

The group had decided to name the boggart and the 'human' separately, to avoid calling Shift 'Harry' and blowing his cover.

"There's going to be so many people at the first class! What if I panic?"

"You're panicking now, mate." Harry ignored him.

"What if I can't teach?"

"You can't if we don't get there in time."

"What if a teacher finds out?"

"Then you're Shift and not Harry, so it won't tarnish your perfect reputation." The redhead rolled his eyes. "Come on, or you're going to be late. And stop worrying! Everyone loves you after that prank. Except Percy, but who cares about him?"

Percy had taken all possible steps to stop the classes, deeming them and Shift as dangerous, but he knew he wouldn't convince the teachers of this until he had proper evidence.

Harry got up slowly and they set off for the castle.

"I'd like you all to know that I am amazing nervous about this class, and I have forced myself to come here today. I am only- well, I was going to say human, but good luck with that." The class of fifty, including many from the other three houses, chuckled and Harry felt ever so slightly better. "Now, who wants to learn an extremely difficult spell? It's the first spell I really found useful. I would show you it myself, but since I'm form locked, I can't perform transfiguration, which uses the same kind of magic."

Ron and Hermione stepped forward. "This isn't exactly a spell," Shift corrected himself, "It's harder to explain than that. It doesn't use a wand or words and relies on force of will. It's also highly illegal to perform without a licence, but only because of the possibility to splinch yourself."

That gained a few gasps, several winces and a great deal of muttering. Shift waited for the chatter to die down, before gesturing to his friends. "This is the magic in all of its glory." And the two transformed with all eyes upon them. Hermione became an extremely bushy owl, and Ron... A dragon. A six foot long, blue eyed, black skinned, red tipped dragon, which then proceeded to breath fire.

Not any old fire, though. This was a ball of lavender, which bounced. A lot. Unfortunately, it rebounded towards Shift. There were screams of "look out!" But how was the spider-boy supposed to know the class was talking to him? The ball smacked him in the head, and the class winced and looked away.

when they finally felt brave enough to look, they saw Shift.

Playing keep-ups with a ball of dragon fire. Two people started a round of applause, and although the three on stage couldn't see them, they each suspected the Weasley twins. All of a sudden the massive room was filled with clapping, and Shift could have laughed.

He could _do_ this!

His voice now a lot stronger, he continued playing with fire to distract him from the crowd. "As you can see, this transformation can take any shape and size. What form you take depends on your life. For example, I lied a little. I am a wizard, and my Animagus form is a boggart." The room became silent at this, daring him to continue. "I actually have been form locked, so I can't show you my human form, but it is one that many people are frightened of. I was feared, not because of what I was, but because of what I _could_ have been, so my form is a boggart."

"Usually, an Animagus form isn't magical, but the usual stuff never happens to me so I'm not surprised to be honest."

A train pulled into the room, and people recognised it in a glance. "The Hogwarts express!" They yelled, and Shift grinned.

"I would like you all to board the train and head to a compartment. Once you do, you shall need to calm your mind and keep your eyes closed. If you see an image, even a blurry one, you are ready for the next step and should leave the train for your next task. I shall be checking on random compartments, so if you need me simply stick a hand out the door." The students turned towards the train, but Shift stopped them. "One final thing," he told them. "Being in the same compartment as a friend can be extremely helpful."

After over four hours, the first two students sauntered out. Predictably, they were Fred and George Weasley. Shift had left the train with them, understandably gobsmacked. "How did you know?"

"Well, it's-"

"-elementary, my dear-"

"-Potter."

"Speak together or only one of you speak. It's annoying when you do that," Shift admonished them, and they bowed their heads in mock shame. "Anyway, do you mind not telling anyone? The fact that Harry Potter's a boggart probably wouldn't go down too well."

"Sure, Shift," they chorused, and then, "how did you learn all this, anyway?"

Shift smiled thoughtfully. "Can you keep another secret?"

"Yessir!"

"I found a book on my bed at Hogsmead. It's called 'A Marauder's Guide to Magicks'."

"Mind if we-

"-see it, Harry?"

The boy sighed. "Later, I guess. Meet us in the Shrieking Shack."

The twins paled. "You mean you've been in there before?" They asked, completely forgetting to finish each other's sentences.

"Sure, you just hit the knot on the Willow and it lets you through."

Gred and Forge would later enchant the tables in the great hall to build themselves up into words saying, 'Potter is our God!'

* * *

><p><strong>The first lesson has gone by!<strong>

**I've just realised that I'm still only around two weeks into the year. This is gonna take a long time, so maybe I'll timeskip at some point. I can tell that the triwizard tournament is going to be fun to write.**

**On a related note, does anyone know of any fics that include Harry in fourth year, beating the tournament with different powers? I can't seem to find any.**


	15. Homework

**JK Rowling has stolen all my jokes.**

* * *

><p>A week later, Harry sat at the only table in the Shrieking Shack, diligently completing his homework. Hermione had threatened him with an invisibility cloak ban if he failed to hand all his homework in time, and so Harry had been forced to work, or lose his fathers heirloom. He trusted Hermione with the cloak, but that didn't stop him from needing it.<p>

Harry had been much more book-happy since first finding the Guide. Maybe it was because of his Animagus form, or maybe simply because he no longer felt like Ron judged him for it. Either way, that new quality, along with his inability to measure his work against others' (he couldn't exactly go to class as a spider), led him to advance faster in his studies than most people his age. Far faster.

Long story short, the homework was boring. That was the problem with going too fast, you didn't learn anything from the work set. This made it boring, and Harry, already tired with sitting in a single room, almost snapped his quill in frustration. The he had an idea. It would probably get him a T, or in detention or something, but it would be so worth it.

The staffroom was silent, except for the voice of Professor McGonagall. "I don't know what to do, Filius," she sighed, "Harry's homework was just sitting on my desk when I got to my classroom."

"I don't see how that's so much of a problem, Minerva," the charms teacher chuckled. "It may simply mean that one of Harry's friends told him the homework assignment."

"I am certain there is a rational explanation, but why would Harry not attend school, but still do his homework?" She shook her head, not waiting for an answer, and continued. "Filius, I would like you to check the parchment for any curses. You know how terrible I am at detection spells, but Professor Dumbledore is busy and will not return for a long while."

The head of ravenclaw nodded, pulled out his wand, and swished it over the parchment. He frowned a little as he muttered an incantation and pass the wand over again. "Well, Minerva, everything seems to be fine. Would you like to open it now?" McGonagall sighed, and pulled the red ribbon off Harry's homework. She stopped dead.

"Dear Professor McGonagall. Please read this with Professor Flitwick, as I have included my Charms assignment on this parchment. That will teach me to not check before I write," she read in shock. Harry, of course, hadn't botched the assignment by accident, but neither teacher knew that.

"What assignment did you set Harry's class, Filius?"

The small man chuckled lightly. "Why, the proper method of casting spells activated by external stimuli, of course!"

"I set the basics of elasticating flexible materials and hardening liquids, so the essay shouldn't be this long, surely!" The bun-haired teacher glanced down to the next line, and the next. She lost track of the length of the essay, and every single word was correct. And this was just the transfiguration part!

"Well I never," the charms teacher exclaimed. He always had been the faster reader, but McGonagall sped through the last word-perfect paragraph, and onto the standalone line on the bottom of the page.

'Professor Flitwick, please tell the parchment to "Begin animation".'

"Begin animation," Filius stated, and the ink came to life. The short man squealed in delight, and the two Professors pulled the entirety of the parchment onto a conveniently long desk nearby, goggling at the intricacy of the spells.

Letters of black ink rose from the paper, forming the outline of an envelope in the air, and McGonagall understood. "He's showing off!" She huffed a little, but eventually summoned a nearby chair and sat back to enjoy the show, Flitwick following shortly after, standing on his instead. They almost missed the writing that the outlines had formed.

'Dear Professors McGonagall and Flitwick,'

The envelope dissolved as McGonagall finished reading, and she started. "It seems Mr Potter is testing his abilities," the charms Professor stated. "I rather think that was set to change when we had both read it fully."

McGonagall gaped. "But that's easily NEWT level work! He was barely scraping an A in previous assignments!" Her rant came to a halt as another shape appeared, this one in the likeness of a certain Mr Potter and written in a far smaller font.

'As you can see, I have been working overtime on my spells and such. The reason for this is a certain book titled 'A Marauder's Guide to Magicks', or the Guide for short. This book Shifted my life off course the moment I first read it. You may be wondering where I am right now, but this will explain everything.'

The lettering seemed to bulge, and the white space around it was filled, forming a perfect three dimensional silhouette of Harry. A box made from the parchment stretched around the model, and both Professors leaned back to examine the full picture. Which happened to be a perfect scale replica of the Hogwarts express, which puffed inky steam and even made a similar sound to the original. The wall and ceiling of a carriage near the back opened, revealing four silhouettes with names above them.

On the right sat Harry, Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be chatting, unheard by the sleeping Professor Lupin. This was explained a moment later; a small transparent sphere, almost like a bubble in appearance and labelled 'Muffliato', appeared over the three students. Harry held a small piece of parchment, which McGonagall supposed represented the so called 'Guide'. Tiny wisps of ink separated into four colours, and danced across the page, then Harry stood up.

A bubble appeared over Harry. Both Professors reacted wildly; McGonagall leapt from her seat and left to... Do what, exactly, she asked herself, and sat back down, feeling rather faint. Flitwick stumbled back a little, and collided with the back of his chair, tipping it and narrowly saving himself with a cushioning charm. After the shock wore off a little, they turned back to the scene, which had been paused in the commotion.

'Partial Animagus Transformation: Acromantula.'

That the form was magical wasn't lost on either Professor, but the bubble vanished too quickly to leave time for thought, and the scene played on. Harry sat down, while Hermione stepped forward and another bubble surrounded her.

'Partial Animagus Transformation: Tawny Owl.'

Ron's bubble didn't surprise the Professors as much as the first two had, but the caption was another story.

'Partial Animagus Transformation: Some bloody horse-sized black dragon with bouncy purple fireballs.'

Flitwick chuckled weakly at that, but McGonagall blanched. "An Egyptian Flamefury," she whispered in a voice reminiscent of a certain divination professor. "Merlin have mercy on their enemies."

The tone of the scene shifted; the parchment darkened, the ink lost its shine, and inky breath was visible from the four models. The Harry model collapsed, and Minerva remembered the news of the frozen Potter on the first day of school. The door slid open, and a dementor model glided in. The forms of Ron and Hermione, who were busy saving Harry, cowered in fright as the creature floated closer.

'Partial Animagus Transformation: Patronus Charm.'

McGonagall hadn't thought anything could surprise her any more, but she was blown out of the water by this. Harry had two magical forms? One of which was a _charm_?! This was getting ridiculous! She glanced at Filius, who wore a similar expression of shock and had once again saved his chair with a quick charm, then turned back to the scene, which was gone.

Instead, the very staffroom they currently sat in had been recreated from stretched parchment, brighter than before, and with one addition: a closed wardrobe, which wobbled violently. The room had been flooded with faceless students, but Lupin and the three friends stuck out like a sore thumb. After a moment's wait, a large bubble surrounded the class. 'Riddikulus.'

The model Harry stumbled in pain, and the parts clicked into place. "He's a boggart," she whimpered, and Flitwick nodded numbly. Although McGonagall was amazed that Harry had figured this out from such sporadic clues, she had to admit it did make sense. He had been feared as a dark wizard, the heir of slytherin, and a muggleborn hater before, after all.

This time the teachers saw the transition between scenes. The parchment sunk back into itself and the ink fell apart and landed on the parchment in droplets, before the reforming into the Harry Potter model. A bubble formed around him, and another piece of the puzzle was formed.

'Boggart Transformation: Lord Voldemoron.'

Both Professors gazed fearfully at Harry's nickname for the most evil man ever, but the bubble had already dissolved, and another scene stood. Lupin's classroom, if Minerva remembered correctly, Lupin apparently talking to the Voldified Harry. A stretched bubble over the two, labelled 'Riddikulus', and He-who-shall-not-be-named wore some kind of helmet.

Some writing appeared over Lupin's head, and McGonagall guessed (correctly) that Harry hadn't been able to express the speech using only silent figures. 'Who are you? Where's Harry?'

'I'm Shift, and Harry's fine, etc etc.'

'He best be back by tomorrow.'

'Okay.'

The scene melted away once more, rebuilding itself into a clock made from ink, which ticked through 24 hours at supersonic speed and dissolved.

The scene changed again, into a similar classroom and the corridor outside. The ink-Lupin dragged the three students into the room, and several bubbles appeared in quick succession, saying 'Riddikulus', 'Glamour charm', 'Finite Incantatem' and 'Boggart transformation: Harry Potter'. The two teachers watched with baited breath as the students turned, and the three were hit by more bubbles, Harry transforming into a small sphere and being carried off, while Ron and Hermione lay petrified on the floor.

McGonagall exchanged looks with Flitwick, and could tell he was as shaken as she was. They turned once more to the parchment, which had returned to normal, except a small message.

'The rest is easier to explain in words than pictures. Of course, so was everything before now, but I was bored. Anyway, Professor Lupin locked the boggart (me) into a certain wardrobe, enchanted it and took it to the labyrinth under the school. I had to transform into my half-Acromantula form to get out, but because Ron wasn't there to fear spiders for me, I botched the transformation and can't change back.

Basically, I can't come to school because I'm half spider.

Yours sincerely,

Harry Potter. Or Shift. Whichever, really.'

The text unraveled into squiggles, then reformed into a charms essay, word perfect and longer than even Hermione's piece. Filius skimmed through at the speed of sound, and chuckled. "Looks like he'll need more of a challenge in the future!"

* * *

><p><strong>Harry has become a transfigurationcharms god!**

**I'm going to say that Harry still isn't OP, if only because this kind of spell would take him hours to set up.**

**Stay frosty! (Never writing that again)**


	16. Surprise

**Can I skip this disclaimer? I ran out of jokes...**

* * *

><p>"May I speak to Shift, please?"<p>

The boggart in question turned towards McGonagall, who was currently marching down from the staff table towards where Shift sat between his best friends. "Professor McGonagall, I presume? I've heard a lot about you, being the deputy headmistress."

"I don't doubt that you have, Shift. Would you follow me, please?" McGonagall's voice had the 'stern on the outside, amused within' quality that told the unofficial teacher that he wasn't in any trouble whatsoever. The head of gryffindor led him to her office, and he sat down as any other visitor would, casting a Muffliato on the room with a wave of his leg.

The Professor started on a serious tone. "Mr Potter, I'm sure you know why I have brought you here." Shift opened his mouth. "No, it isn't to excuse you from any future homework." Shift closed his mouth. "I assume you have heard of veritaserum?"

Shift had; it had popped up in the potions textbook while he had flipped through it a few days ago. "Yes, I have, but what does that have to do with anything? I read that it was illegal to use, and I can see why, so-"

"That is not entirely accurate, Harry. The potions textbook is a fair few years old; the laws have changed, and now veritaserum is legal, although only when the drinker agrees. I will ask you now to avoid wasting time. Do you, Harry Potter, agree to take veritaserum in front of me, and answer the questions I ask? I shall not press for personal details, et cetera, although I will need to ask about an embarrassing moment in your life to check that the potion is working."

"I agree to these terms, Professor McGonagall."

McGonagall seemed to momentarily lose focus, but Harry thought he imagined it, as she answered without hesitation. "Now, shall we get started?" She asked, handing the boggart a small vial of clear liquid, which he drank immediately.

The Professor started simply. "What is your name, age and Animagus form? If you have multiple, please state each."

"I am Harry James Potter, also known as Shift, thirteen years old, and I am a boggart Animagus."

"What was the most embarrassing thing to happen to you during the previous summer holidays?" Little did Shift know, McGonagall had still kept her eye on Harry during that summer.

"I fell asleep while writing a letter, and woke up having eaten most of the quill and a few bites of parchment." The bun-haired woman desperately kept her cool facade over the smirk she could feel fighting onto her face, but although she managed it well, Shift noticed the ever so slight change in her expression and smirked.

"Who has learned or is learning to cast Animagick alongside you, or under your tutelage?"

The boy's black skin became a sickly grey, and he grimaced before answering. He hadn't thought this through at all! "Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger learned along with me, and I have started tutoring around fifty students, although most of them deemed the lessons too difficult or illegal and quit on the first day, to return when I begin teaching a different spell. The only few left are the Weasley twins, Lee Jordan, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom, as well as the only non-gryffindor, Luna Lovegood. They have all attained a partial transformation, mostly their eyes, but we still don't know their forms."

Professor McGonagall was stunned. Harry had not only gained a magical Animagus form, but could teach others in the Magicks faster than she thought possible! Most Animagicks teachers would be lucky to have a single student start transforming within two years! Harry? He had managed it in...

"How long have you tutored these people?"

"A week so far. They aren't learning as quickly as me, Ron and Hermione did, but-"

"Stop!" the teacher distractedly silenced the student/teacher with a wave of her wand; she needed quiet, along with lots and lots of time, to straighten her jumbled thoughts. Harry? He had managed it in less than a week. A week! And not just one student, either, but no fewer than SIX! That was... Minerva didn't even have the words! The boy was a genius in transfiguration and charms, a magical Animagus, a shapeshifter, and an impossible teacher! The woman giddily undid her silencing charm, reached into a pocket, and brought out a tiny stone.

"Swallow this, Harry. It's called a bezoar, and it will cure you of the effect of veritaserum, along with most other poisoning you may happen to have endured." She placed her shaking hand on the table, palm up, the bezoar sitting on top. Not for long, however, as it was now heading towards Shift's stomach at a rapid pace. The raven-haired boy grinned in relief and-

Raven-haired. The miraculously human Potter followed her gaze down, stared at his own hands, before leaping for joy, knocking several objects over, including himself. "Sorry," he beamed, "I forgot I didn't still have the weight from my legs." His smile faded a little. "Professor Lupin must have poisoned me to get stuck as the first thing I transformed into."

McGonagall frowned a little. "Harry, I understand that you feel resentment towards Prof-"

"Are you kidding? He only did that so he could find the 'real' Harry Potter! He actually cares about his students, he's the best DADA teacher we've had! It's not saying much, given that one was Voldemoron," McGonagall flinched even more violently than usual, "and the other was a fraud, but I don't think anyone could make a better DADA teacher than Professor Lupin."

McGonagall smiled a rare, proud smile. "Thank you for being so mature, Harry. Now, we have much to attend to, still, but I think you're going to like where this goes." Harry's ears pricked up, and she continued. "Firstly, as deputy headmistress, I am trusted to confirm or deny extra-curricular classes, as long as they aren't teaching anything illegal. Your classes will remain unofficial until you finish up on Animagicks, then I shall make it official."

Harry was hit by a bombshell at this news. McGonagall transfigured the floorboards into a makeshift shield, and became ever-grateful for her quick reflexes as the boy literally exploded, raining debris down from the walls, shattering the window behind the teacher's desk, and blowing several holes in the door with razor sharp quills propelled to Mach 1. She peered cautiously around the barricade, where Harry was still sitting on his chair, now looking much more embarrassed.

"Uh, sorry Professor. I don't know why that happened, I've never transformed by accident." He grew himself a beard and scratched it thoughtfully, then started. "I didn't make the beard either! Maybe I had some other kind of poisoning..."

"It would seem that way, Mr Potter, but perhaps your boggart magic is simply on the fritz after not being used in so long. I have heard that certain wands tend to explode after being stashed away for long periods of time. In fact, Mr Ollivander has stated no fewer than five wand woods that have this effect. I strongly advise you to head to wherever you teach classes and let off some steam."

The boy-who-was-human thought for a moment more. "I think I want to show you and Professor Flitwick where we have classes. I think you'll both love it." He Shifted into the half spider, and led McGonagall towards the head of ravenclaw's office.

Knocking on the door, he heard a cheerful "come in!" And he opened the door, which coincidentally had a similar squeaking to the man's voice. "Ah, Mr Potter! I assume Professor McGonagall has confirmed that you are, in fact, you?" Shift nodded and Flitwick chuckled heartily. "Well, what would you like to ask of me, Mr Potter? I have a lesson within the next..." He checked an antique-looking clock hung on the wall. "Two hours. Plenty of time, actually."

"Well, Professor, Professor McGonagall gave me veritaserum and I told her about a class I've started. I wanted to show you the room, and I think you'll like it a lot."

Flitwick perked up even more, if that was possible, and suddenly stood next to Shift, instead of on that gigantic pile of books he used as a stand. "Well then, lead the way, Mr Potter!"

The rather odd group, consisting of an uptight Professor, a miniature Professor, and a spidery Professor, walked along the seventh floor corridor, until they noticed a rather large tapestry on the wall. "Ah, here we are!"

The two official Professors turned towards Harry, and McGonagall spoke, "You simple practise in the corridor," McGonagall stated more than questioned.

"Not quite, Professor." He walked past the tapestry, then turned and walked again, then another turn and passed once more. Instantly a door began to fade into existence, a huge arch, filled with two planes of oak wood, which had silver edges and knockers, and looked simply extraordinary. Both humans found themselves gaping at Harry's find, but were snapped out of their daze by Shift's voice.

"Wait until you see the inside." With that, he wrenched open the doors, turned and bowed the teachers inside. Their jaws hit the floor. "Welcome to the Come and Go Room, also known as the Room of Requirement. As its name suggests, this room changes to include exactly what you need. I've tried asking for a few things, mostly gold, food and time, to experiment. The room gave me nothing for gold, a passage to Hogsmeade for food, and a time turner for time, so the laws of transfiguration hold here, so this room uses transfiguration. It also uses charms to detect the user's needs and bend to them, which is where I got the idea for my homework."

"A-a very astute observation, Harry. Fifty points to gryffindor for basing homework on this extraordinary room." McGonagall shook herself visibly. "Which brings us to another topic. As a teacher, you will have many oppurtunities, and even more responsibilities. You may not earn points for your house. However, you also can't lose points and shall be given the ability to give and abduct them from students as you wish. I trust you to use this power wisely, and not to abduct all points from slytherin." She smiled her proud smile once more, obviously certain Harry wouldn't abuse his privilege.

"Well, Mr Potter!" Flitwick interrupted, "Would you like to explain what you plan to teach in the future? And for that matter, what have you already taught?" And Shift explained that he had no idea what he'd teach in the future, but told them in great detail how far his students were getting.

The two teachers eventually scraped their jaws off the ground, and headed off to their first lessons, still in a state of shock.

* * *

><p><strong>I just started writing and found myself with almost two thousand words of story! I actually love how this is going. I never guessed I'd have Harry tell anyone other than Ron, 'Mione and the twins, but here we are, with two teachers in on the act!<strong>

**Next chapter, Harry's first Ancient Runes lesson, more lessons by the boy-who-taught, and I figure out why I still write these next chapter bits when nothing on them ever comes true in the next chapter!**

**Until then!**

**PS: I removed a line along the lines of "Ask me who Sirius Black is," spoken by Harry, as I had forgotten that he didn't know himself at this point in time. Also, that never came to pass anyway, so the line was obsolete.**


	17. Snitch

**The first two sentences of this chapter make complete grammatical sense.**

* * *

><p>Saying that the human-who-lived was excited was like saying that the fact he was excited was obvious. It was obvious. Why was he excited? It was his first ever ancient runes lesson, and it was a double lesson! Harry loved ancient runes, and he seemed to have an affinity for them. Ron had taught him the basics in his absence; apparently Hermione was more suited to Arithmancy, which Harry found odd but understandable. Harry had managed to create a stone that pulsed with light when magic was applied to it, similar to a dim <em>Lumos<em>, which Ron had assured him was incredible for the amount of practice Harry had gotten.

Professor Oldston, the thirty-six year old Ancient Runes and Arithmancy teacher, was a rather round lady, who always wore a jolly smile on her plump face, and Harry would have found himself hard pushed to not like her. He had sat between his two best friends, and rather than questioning his previous absences, she was simply delighted to welcome Harry into her class.

"Today, class, I have a rather fun practical in store for you. Please take a runic stone from the cupboard, along with a small chisel and mallet from the tool rack, and we will experiment with the..." Harry could no longer hear the Professor as everyone stood up as one, drowning out the rest of her speech.

Strange. He knew she was speaking loud enough to hear over the squeaks of chair legs, but he simply couldn't concentrate on the right sound. Harry chalked this up to yet another strange Boggart instinct (although this would explain how they were so easily confused), and joined the rest of the class in their clamouring for a runic stone.

Unfortunately, since Oldston hadn't expected Harry in the class, there weren't enough to go around. Harry shrugged, then transfigured his parchment into a similarly shaped rock, and got to work chipping away the grey-blue material.

The boy-who-lived was frustrated. Why wouldn't he be? His runes weren't working, no matter how perfect they seemed. He'd triple-checked the centric runes, the connections and nodes, but the stone, which was simply meant to produce water, remained stubbornly bone dry, no matter how much wandless magic he poured into it. The boy didn't dare use his wand to activate the runes, as the results would be largely unpredictable.

It wasn't until his quadruple check that he realised something. Runic stones were imbued with natural magic, which forced Harry's largely useless wandless magic to spiral over their surface, according to the textbook. Because Harry had created his own stone, this magic didn't exist at all. Harry had two choices. He could attempt to Shift his magic to have the exact same properties as the runes.

There were two problems with this. Firstly, the teacher had seen Harry transfigure his stone, so she knew it wouldn't work. Why she hadn't stopped him, Harry couldn't say, but the fact was that he didn't want to have to give away the secret of Shift if he was asked how he had created the magic. Secondly, an explosive reaction, which wouldn't be too unlikely, would prove fatal as Harry would still be attached to the magic.

So he set off carrying out the probably less deadly plan. He would carve spiralling passages for the magic to flow down naturally. Unfortunately, that could cause an even bigger explosion. It was a risk Harry was willing to take, however, and he started the painstaking carving.

Harry hadn't noticed the eyes upon him for the past hour, as he worked to fix his runes with the unfathomable power of tiny little indents. Ron had noticed the change first; Harry had gone from frustration to thoughtfulness in a millisecond, then broke into a face-splitting grin and started working quadruple time on a pattern that the redhead had never seen, despite being fairly good at runes.

When he had pointed Oldston towards Harry, he seemed to be caught in some kind of trance, not taking note of the world around him. Oldston had chuckled at his enthusiasm, but that was before she recognised the inscriptions. She had paled a little at that shock; weren't those supposed to be NEWT level? As she watched the boy more closely, however, her trained eyes zeroed in on the ambient magic of the stone.

There was none. She should have realised sooner, with the fact that Potter had transfigured himself one, but she hadn't given it a second thought. She decided it best to interrupt. "Mr Potter, would you care to explain the strange runes on your stone?"

Harry didn't flinch, or give any other sign that he had heard his teacher. He merely blew a little dust out of the perfectly crafted grooves along the equator, then returned to his chisel and scraped out a few more ridges.

By now, the entire class was staring at Harry, a few having caught sight of Oldston's incredulous expression. Little did they know, Harry was laughing inside. He had forced himself not to react, because this was too good an opportunity to miss. Harry liked going above and beyond. Ask him to levitate a boulder? He'd levitate a dragon. Ask him to create water? He'd tack the word 'fall' onto the end. Ask him to experiment? He'd build a tornado.

The boy was currently retracing his old carvings, attempting to repair them wandlessly as using a wand would-

Do what, exactly? Mess with the _non-existent_ natural magic? Harry shook his head at his own stupidity and pulled out the holly stick, then undid his first carvings. He then murmured something under his breath, and miniscule grooves appeared on the surface of the rock.

None in the class had ever dreamed of the intricacy on Harry's stone. The pits were on multiple layers; some sections bleeding into others, others digging straight into the core of the rock itself. The pattern seemed rather like that on... None of them could place it, exactly. It was so familiar, yet so different than what they were used to. What was infuriating was that they didn't _know_ what they were used to.

Ten minutes later, a clatter of tools surprised almost everyone in the room, and Harry raised his item in celebration. "It's done!"

"What might 'it' be, Mr Potter?"

The boy looked the Professor in the eyes, apparently startled, but laughing in an evil scientist sort of way on the inside. "Ah! Oh, uh, how long have you been standing there, Professor?"

Oldston chuckled at the boy's awkwardness. "Around an hour, son. I think we're all glad you're ok. You didn't react to anybody while you were sitting there. I thought you'd been cursed or something!"

Harry grinned sheepishly and ruffled his hair, then turned to inspect the now ball-shaped stone. "It looks like it might be ready now..." Harry's tone was unsure, which he didn't actually have to fake. He had no idea whether this would work or not. Hs thoughts were interrupted once more, this time by Ron.

"What does it do, mate? I think I've seen a pattern like that on something... Flying?"

"Well done Ron." Harry pulsed a small amount of magic into the ball, and they class goggled.

the ball had wings.

"Bloody hell," Ron managed, as the homemade snitch whizzed around the room in a frenzy.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry's first Ancient Runes lesson is a huge success!<strong>

**Next time, I have no idea. Maybe I'll kill someone off.**


	18. Song

**The song doesn't belong to me, either. On that note, warning: song ahead. Only a small inconsequential one but whatever.**

* * *

><p>The next day, Shift and Ron (Hermione was busy owl-ordering some books that Harry asked for after Ancient Runes, and Harry found he liked the extra weight of his legs) sat on the bed of the shrieking shack, chatting animatedly about the homemade snitch, when a shuffling sound was heard, and the trapdoor entrance creaked open.<p>

"Blimey, Harry-"

"That's Shift to you, gentlemen."

"Blimey, Shift," the twins tried, grinning. "Still can't believe you got here! It's on the map, but we couldn't get past the Willow!"

"You're welcome, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley." Shift bowed deeply, then produced the Guide, which he had borrowed from Hagrid after breakfast. He smirked and said, "Moony, Padfoot and Prongs have been a bri... What?" Gred and Forge were gazing open mouthed at the dull red book, seemingly caught in a trance. "Guys, what?"

They shook themselves in unison, then George spoke. "Those're the same guys who made the map!"

"How'd you get it?" Fred demanded. It was incredibly hard to demand something after being struck down by awe, he found.

Ron shrugged. "It was laying on Harry's bed in the Leaky Cauldron just before we left, according to him. Professor Lupin saw it and I think he knew them. Said he knew they would teach us Animagick first."

The twins' eyes glistened in glee. "He might be one of them!"

"Not Prongs, though, sounds too proud."

"Maybe Padfoot? He is really quiet."

Padfoot... "Wait!" Everyone turned to Shift, the twins' speculation having derailed. "What if they're named after their Animagus forms?" Nobody seemed convinced, so he elaborated. "They taught us Animagick before anything else, and I did exactly the same thing, calling my form Shift! It makes sense!"

Gred recovered first, and raised an eyebrow. "What would Prongs mean, then?"

"Prongs is probably a... Something with horns," Shift ended lamely. "Wait, maybe a deer? Or some kind of goat, maybe, or a bull, but the deer makes more sense."

Ron put on a thinking face that surprisingly didn't seem out of place on him. "Maybe Wormtail is a mouse or rat, like Hagrid. I'd go with a rat, because they're supposed to have worm tails."

The twins spoke in turns again. "Maybe he's your-"

"-pet rat, Ronniekins," they joked, and Ron looked thoughtful again.

"Come to think of it, I haven't seen Scabbers since we came to Hogwarts. Maybe he died of old age and Crookshanks ate him. It would be about time after twelve years."

Shift's ears pricked up. "He went missing just after we became Animagi, then. Maybe we did have Wormtail with us." He chuckled a little, then moved on. "What about Padfoot? Cats have padded feet. Maybe it was Professor McGonagall."

The village was silent for a second, then the residents of Hogsmeade had another fright as the gales of laughter poured out of the half-rotten wooden house.

The laugher died down within a few minutes and the four boys were left breathless. Shift recovered first, leaping off the bed and beaming his face apart. "I have an idea!" His singsong voice snapped the other three out of their stupors, and they soon sat with similar expressions to the not-spidery not-Harry in front of them. Hogwarts beware.

Breakfast the next day was pandemonium. It had started off all well and good, but then the Weasley twins sauntered in.

All four of them.

They stood on the gryffindor table, and three redheads filled the room with 'Ooo's arranged into music. The four turned to the staff table, locking eyes with Professor Dumbledore, and a glamoured Ron started his solo.

"We're no strangers to love,

You know the rules, and so do I!

A full commitment's what I'm thinking of,

You wouldn't get this from any other guy!

I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling,

Gotta make you understand!"

Several students, even some from slytherin, were now clapping in time with the A Capella, Dumbledore had twinkles in his eyes that almost hurt to look at, and the rest of the staff simply stared at the twins, no doubt dreading the coming lessons. Snape's disgusted face, especially, was worth all the trouble they would get in. All four redheads joined in for the chorus, switching places every few words and confusing everyone.

"Never gonna give you up!

Never gonna let you down!

Never gonna run around and desert you!

Never gonna make you cry!

Never gonna say goodbye!

Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you!"

By the end of the song, even Snape had joined in the chorus for some reason. Many assumed that the Weasleys had spiked his pumpkin juice, along with the other teachers', but the drinks hadn't been touched. The potions master had very few guilty pleasures, but the redheads had inexplicably found one. That made him angry.

"two hundred points from gryffindor for disrupting breakfast," he hissed, and most students booed. Along with Professor McGonagall.

"Fifty points to gryffindor each, for an absolutely wonderful song." A few first years turned towards the headmaster in shock, followed by Snape, who seemed to be turning an unhealthy shade of... Vernon.

"Fifty points each," McGonagall added, smiling warmly. "That was the best meal I have had in quite a while."

The twins were still bowing to deafening cheers (and death glares from Snape) when breakfast ended. An interesting choice presented itself in the form of a question from the twins.

"Are you going to come with-"

"-us to our lessons today-"

"-fine and incredibly-"

"-handsome Sirs?"

Fred and George turned to the disguised Harry and Ron, processing their question, before beaming widely.

"You're thinking more like-"

"-Weasley twins every day," they cheered, and off the quadruplets went to Defence Against the Dark Arts, leaving a hysterically giggling Hermione in their wake.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry and Ron make it to fifth year DADA! Who's teaching, and what will they learn? Find out next time!<strong>


	19. Eye

**Even 100 followers won't make me own Harry Potter.**

**Thanks for waiting, by the way. College is annoying sometimes.**

* * *

><p>"Sit!" The class sat as the voice barked at them, then Rarry, Hon, Gred and Forge looked up in unison. "Now, as I'm sure you lot are aware, Snape decided he didn't want to deal with more than two Weasleys, so I've been sent while Professor Lupin's still 'tracking Harry down'. I guess the news of Potter's return hasn't reached him yet. My name is Professor Moody, and this eye can see through things so don't try anything."<p>

The incredibly scarred, odd-eyed man in front of them grimaced in the most disturbing way possible, then turned towards the blackboard. "Anyway, today you are going to be learning the Patronus charm, because I don't trust those dementors for a second. _Expecto Patronum_." Moody casually flicked his wand, and a silver stingray burst out of his wand, seemingly swimming in the air. "Hands up if you can already cast this spell."

The quadruplets threw up their hands; they had all taken the initiative and learnt the spell between classes, being the geniuses that they were. "Twenty points to each of you that proves it," he told them gruffly, "twenty more if you can form a corporeal patronus, and an extra fifty for each one you can hold after the first."

Fred went first. He stood up quickly, moved to the centre of the room and muttered the incantation, and a sleek fox sprouted from the wand onto a nearby desk. It scampered around a little, before Fred swished his wand again, sending out another two, and they began to play small pranks on each other.

George stepped up to the middle, pulled out his wand (which was incidentally identical to his brother's), and muttered the incantation in exactly the way his brother had. This time, three glowing parrots appeared, forming a faction and battling Fred's foxes. They turned out even, of course, and when both sides dissolved, the real twins sat down as Ron stood up.

The third quadruplet pulled out his wand, which had also been glamoured to look like Gred and Forge's, and muttered the incantation, throwing out two geckos, which held for fifteen seconds, then faded away. Ron sat down again, his glamour hiding a pink tinge on his ears.

Harry got up and strode to the centre of the room. He shot a cocky smirk at Moody, and grinned wider at the man's raised eyebrow. It would drain him completely, but if it worked it would be completely worth it. '_Expecto Patronum_,' he thought, flicking his wand. A silver acromantula collided with the floor and a few girls screamed. Moody was wide eyed, one of them trained on Harry, who had just summoned a Patronus silently. The boy-who-lived was glad the eye couldn't see his true form as he raised his wand again, green eyes gleaming in evil joy.

'_Expecto Patronum_.' Moody was gaping slightly at the silver cat. And at Harry himself, using the completely not creepy magical eye. Harry was still grinning, seeming fairly creepy himself at his eyes widened in glee at his teacher's shock.

'_Expecto Patronum_.'

The quadruplets scuttled out of the room, having been awarded seven hundred and ten points and been excused from the lesson by a shell-shocked Moody, who had gotten his own back with a bellowed "Constant vigilance!" as they left.

"So what now?" The twins asked of Harry, their saviour and lord.

Harry suddenly remembered something important. "You could explain how you know the Marauders."

The twins blanched. "How did we-"

"-forget to tell-"

"-you that story?!"

They chorused the story as if it was rehearsed for hours on end. "It all started in our first year. Filch had arrested us for setting off a dung bomb, and we saw a drawer marked 'confiscated and highly dangerous. Naturally, we dropped a dung bomb and took of with something. We later discovered that it was a full map of Hogwarts, with the positions of everyone! That's how we knew you were Harry before. Anyway, the map was made by the marauders. We would give it to you, but you're crazy enough to not need it," they explained at break-neck speed, and Harry suffered mental whiplash at their double voice.

Ron shrugged nonchalantly at Harry, and the quadruplets sped off to the Room of Requirement, where Shift's classes would be even after McGonagall made him an official teacher.

The dementor lesson had given Harry a new perspective. Specifically, the "I don't trust those dementors" comment. Harry's grin threatened to claw its way through his glamour and transformation, and he was absent from classes two days later, losing him a hundred points while ensuring nobody thought he was kidnapped again.

Harry's experiment was now underway, a week after he had conceived it, and he stood with a layer of Shifted polar bear fur, which didn't help combat the freezing night air at all as the boggart trudged towards the castle gates. As he arrived, Shift felt the additional chill of the dementors washing over him, shivering accordingly and shedding his fur with a few choice words about its un-warmth being due to its mother. He grinned with chattering teeth as the icebox drew closer, and held up a small bar.

"Want some chocolate?" Harry beamed at the bringer of doom as an outstretched, rotten hand stopped on its course towards him. The dementor hesitated slightly and the chill grew stronger. "Go on, take it!" Harry sensed something emanating from the being of death. It almost seemed like... confusion? Shift couldn't quite tell, although the fact that it had emotions was reassuring and scary at the same time, considering its abilities. "I'm Harry, or Shift. Do you have a name?"

The dementor hesitate a little more, before lowering its hand onto the bar of chocolate unsurely. Harry let go and the robed creature found itself carrying an unopened bar of chocolate. It slowly, painstakingly nodded in answer to Harry's question and the boy pressed on. "Is there a way for you to tell me? I have a quill, ink and parchment if you can write." It shook this time, the movement just as drawn out as before. Harry sighed. "That's okay then, I guess. Do you mind if I call you... Joy?"

Harry got a distinct feeling of widened eyes as the dementor stared at him, amazed by his name choice. "I think Joy seems like a nice name, don't you?" The boy mused, twinkling at it cheerfully. He put on some puppy eyes and gazed earnestly at the dementor. "You like it, right?"

Joy crumbled under that look.

Half an hour later, Joy the Tatter (Harry had decided that 'dementor' was too negative a term) waved shyly at Harry as he walked back to the castle. Harry smiled thoughtfully at his progress with her (she had confirmed her gender when asked, but still wanted the name Joy), and resolved to see under her hood one day, as well as to get her some new robes, as how were the Tatters themselves supposed to buy them? He also needed to find a way to keep the Tatters fed, as Joy had told him that they needed happy emotions to live. And he needed to teach Joy how to read and write.

Small steps for now, though.

Harry snickered as he remembered Joy's first bite of chocolate, and how quickly she had scoffed the rest, and decided to research that as a source of food. Honeydukes would be thrilled, he thought, as he snuck back into the castle.

* * *

><p><strong>I bet you didn't see that coming. Harry has befriended a Tatter and sets out to change the world, one inexplicably massive step at a time! It's like he's confused a cliff for a flight of stairs!<strong>

**Next time, I don't even bother to put this section in as nothing written here ever comes true!**

**...Wait.**

**Anyway, I was originally going to have Snape or Dumbledore as the teacher, but I couldn't get the story to move anywhere from there without it seeming incredibly cheesy. It may have something to do with the lycanthropy lesson in the canon Potterverse, and my inability to write Crumblemore's grandfatheryness.**

**Besides, I love how this turned up. Especially Joy. I didn't even plan for Joy.**


	20. Thirtieth

**No, I'm not JK Rowling, stop asking.**

* * *

><p>The next few weeks flew by for Harry. He quickly found that Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, although he was fairly good with them, were not for him. He was especially glad that Ron had found his calling in Ancient Runes, soaring to the top of the class with his well-rounded skills, both magical and physical, as well as his incredible memory for every symbol they had been taught. Harry, meanwhile, simply grabbed a rune stone and chipped away, making many unique things, but they were all so far away from the goal that he never got more than a fifty percent.<p>

Hermione had likewise taken over Arithmancy, while Harry once again created nothing like the target. Harry simply couldn't stop himself from being creative, hating to do things that had already been done before.

Maybe he'd be a spell inventor when he left Hogwarts.

Shift's lessons had become more popular after he had wrapped up Animagus transformations, and he became a fully fledged extra-curricular teacher. The Weasley twins were both ginger Weasels; Ginny was, fittingly, a red bat; Lee Jordan was a tarantula; Neville was a wasp, surprisingly enough; and Luna was a...

"Luna? What is that?" Ron, who had been helping Luna with her Animagick, gaped at her new form. Where she had once stood, there was now a two foot tall ball of fluffy, white and brown striped fur, with a bent spike protruding from the... front?

Luna changed back and giggled, her odd behaviour having disappeared without a trace as she found good friends in gryffindor. "It's a crumple-horned snorkack, of course!"

Ron sighed, then chuckled. "I should have guessed they were real. I bet your Dad's going to be proud when you go home for christmas."

The silver-blonde bounced excitedly on her toes as she waved her hands around, then pulled Ron into a bone-crushing hug and squealed, "Thank you so much, Ron! I couldn't have done it without you!"

The red head only just managed to cast a silent glamour charm on himself before his burning ears showed through, and he laughed awkwardly, before going with the flow and cuddling her back. "Sure you could, Luna. You're smart enough to not have needed my help at all." Luna only giggled some more and hugged him harder, to many whistles from the others.

Nothing extremely life-changing happened to Harry until the end of October. Harry was dreading Halloween, because when _didn't_ something something bad happen to him on that date? In 1981, he became the boy-who-lived-with-hyphens, in 1991 a troll attacked Hogwarts, and in 1992 the Chamber of Secrets opened. Personally, Harry was betting on an attack from Sirius Black.

However, neither Harry nor his friends suspected that the night before would be out to get them, too.

At seven o'clock, Shift was practicing magic using his legs, hoping to unlock the secret to wandless magic. He figured out, after a few hours, that it wasn't the wand that helped a wizard do magic, it was the magical focus, in the form of a wand core. The wood was simply to establish a connection between wand and wizard, while the core forced out the magic. Shift's legs could bypass the wood because if he didn't have a connection with his own body, what on earth did he have?

Ron, Luna and Hermione were sitting at the single desk, scribbling out their homework at exactly the same speed as each other. Shift compared it to those F1 races he'd seen on TV once, and chuckled under his breath.

at nine thirty, Shift's ears picked up a snuffling sound from the door. He stamped on the floor twice, the signal to transform, and suddenly a stripy fluff ball, a fire-breathing lizard, a tawny owl and an old man in Shift's white robes were standing, facing the slowly opening door.

Shift found himself facing a pair of dull green eyes, on the face of what seemed to be a wolf. He noticed a fairly short snout, which was covered with the same grey fur flecked with brown as the rest of the body. The wolf spun its head to face the animals sitting by the desk, growling viciously. It was then that Shift figured out what was wrong.

The eyes were too human.

"Hello, my name is Brian Wulfric." Shift had to transform his face straight at the sight of a wolf jumping three feet in the air. It recovered and pivoted to face him, and he let a small smile curve his lips. "Would you be a werewolf, perhaps?" Harry had had an assignment on werewolves, set by Moody, as his first third-year DADA lesson with the man.

The wolf blinked, then slowly nodded, one non-existent eyebrow raised. "So you've drunk Wolfsbane today." It nodded again, and Shift put a thoughtful look on his face. "Are you from Hogsmeade?" A shake. "Hogwarts?" A nod. Shift grinned; he was getting somewhere!

He noticed that the werewolf hadn't left the door yet. "Don't be shy, they don't bite," he told it, pointing at the creatures in the corner. It seemed unsure, so he added in a loud whisper, "the dragon's the biggest softie of the lot," eliciting a playful growl from the black death.

Slowly and unsteadily, the werewolf put one paw in front of the other, reaching the bed surprisingly quickly and leaping atop it. Shift sat down next to it, an encouraging smile playing on his mouth. "Are you a student?" It shook its head wildly. "A teacher, then." grey-haired man descended into thought. After a few minutes, he sighed. "The only teacher I can think of with grey-brown hair is Professor Lupin, but he's-" the wolf was nodding vigorously, and Shift's eyes widened slightly.

"Well then, Professor, I have something I need to tell you." Lupin raised a furry eyebrow in question, and the elderly man sighed, then Shifted back into Harry. "I'm Harry Potter, and my Animagus form is a boggart. I'm also Shift, but I didn't want to tell you that until you disappeared."

Harry glanced up at his sometimes human sometimes teacher and sighed again at the look of pure guilt on Lupin's face, complete with unshed tears in his eyes. "Don't worry, you didn't kill me or anything." He stopped, then added, "That poison you gave me came off after Professor McGonagall gave me veritaserum, and I think it was a brilliant idea, just so you know." He shrugged and suddenly became very interested in his feet. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Professor, I don't know what I was thinking."

Harry closed his eyes, pressing his index fingers into the lids as he bowed his head. He started when he felt something wet and warm impact his face, then gave a yelp and jumped off the bed, hiding from the tongue of doom behind a resigned-looking dragon. He took that moment to whisper into his friends' ears, "Do you mind if I tell him?"

At the three shaking heads, Harry stepped out into the open, smirking at the now whimpering Professor, who seemed thoroughly embarrassed with his outburst. "Professor, the three behind me are Animagi." Still whining pitifully, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher looked over the black and red dragon, tilting his head in question.

"The dragon is Ron. We still don't-"

"Hey, I can explain myself, mate."

Harry turned to his currently human best friend. "Fine, it'd be easier that way, I think. Besides, I don't want to carry on talking to anima- ow!" Ron had punched Harry right in the jaw, and although the green-eyed boy had Shifted into spider skin in reflex, that didn't stop him being thrown across the room by the impact. "Okay, you aren't animals, geez."

"That's better," Ron snorted, before the two boys broke into laugher, with Lupin pawing at his ears in pain only adding to the hilarity. "Anyway," the redhead choked out, "as Harry was saying, we don't know what kind of dragon I am, but it shoots exploding purple fireballs, and I think I can change their temperature if I want." Both boys chuckled again at the horrified expression of the wolf, and didn't stop until a certain owl transformed and stepped forwards.

"I'm Hermione, obviously, and I'm a tawny owl. I can fly," Hermione ignored Ron's snickers, "and I can tell where people ar- WHY didn't I use that to find you once we were in Hogsmeade? I'm so stupid sometimes!"

"None of us thought of it, Hermione, you're not stupid at all," Harry consoled her, pulling her onto the bed with a Shifted leg and into his waiting arms. She giggled and transformed back into the tawny, then perched on Harry's shoulder, taking the opportunity to peck on his ear, much to Harry's pain and discomfort.

The final creature, a white and brown fluff ball with a spike sticking out, transformed into a silver haired girl with a slightly dreamy expression, who ignored the yelling Harry to speak to Lupin. "I'm Luna, but I believe we've met, Professor Lupin. My Animagus form is a crumple-horned snorkack, and I can be incredibly cute and run really fast!" She transformed back and gave Ron a hard tackle, sending him sprawling onto the bed next to the furry Professor, a crazed owl, and a boy with tough black skin coating his ears.

"Anyway," Harry suddenly spoke, after a few minutes of lying on the tiny bed, everyone overlapping each other and Lupin sitting triumphantly on top of the pile, with Harry crushed under the sea of body parts. "You've missed a lot, Professor. We found out that my extra legs can be used as wands, and I must've been Shifting myself a wand, because I remember that you left me in the cupboard in only my boxers." Lupin whined and Harry stroked him, smirking slightly as the Professor leaned into his hand. "We went to Hogsmeade to try and find you, a Tatter-"

"He means dementor, Professor, he seems to think he can be friends with them." Ron's interruption gave Harry a chance to catch up on breathing as the glared at the redhead.

"You'd better not be insulting Joy," Harry threatened, shaking his fist as he lay face down.

"I'm not, I just can't believe the 'Tatter' let you make friends with it."

"Her," Hermione corrected absently, sitting on Harry's stomach.

"Anyway," the boggart continued loudly, drowning out everyone else, "a Tatter tried to suck out our souls and it froze me, then we fended it-"

"You fended it off, Harry," Luna reminded him.

"Yea- you weren't even there, how did you know?" Harry sighed. "Wait, you're Luna. You know everything." He paused, then continued filling the Professor in. "After that, we started illegal Animagus classes with me as the teacher, and I honestly can't believe how few people have made a connection between Harry and Shift, and I also told Professors McGonagall and Flitwick about them, and Professor McGonagall said she'd make me an official teacher tomorrow morning," he finished, gasping for breath. "And that's it, I think. Oh, and some guy called Moody was teaching fifth year DADA while we were pranking the school again with the Weasley twins."

Harry looked up at the decidedly stunned-looking doggy Professor.

* * *

><p><strong>An extra long chapter, but not much content. Harry fills in a certain Professor on the weeks he's missed.<strong>

**Yes, Lupin looks like a wolf. No, he isn't that demented furry hunchback thing in the movies. On a related note, the Wolfsbane potion turns a werewolf's wolf instincts into domesticated dog instincts, and also suppresses them slightly. Basically Lupin's a wolf Animagus who can't transform when he wants. Also the transformation is painful.**

**Yes, the 30th of October actually was a full moon. I searched it.**

**Yes, Shift will be a fully fledged Professor tomorrow, on Halloween.**


	21. Catnip

**I am not JK Rowling. Seriously, that question's getting old.**

* * *

><p>"Harry!"<p>

Said gryffindor looked up at Hermione, who had just burst through the Fat Lady's portrait, with bags under her eyes and a wide smile on her face. "Did you get any sleep last night, 'Mione?" He asked, worried for her health.

"No, but I found," she checked over her shoulders for any eavesdroppers, still panting frantically, before lowering her voice a little, "a book about Boggarts! Apparently intelligent ones are really rare, and they have defining characteristics that match up with yours!"

"Glad to know I'm smart," Harry grinned. "Mind if I read the book? I'll do your homework so you can rest, while I'm at it."

"Okay, it can be payback for the book."

Hermione had come far over the month or two back at Hogwarts. She no longer felt the need to constantly harass people about their homework, and had stopped conforming to rules so tightly, even pulling a prank or two every now and then.

The mystery of the pink Nimbus 2000 had been a fun one. Harry had kept the colour charm, much to Oliver Wood's irritation. That had given the slytherins another source of hateful comments, but by now Harry found their jeering amusing, usually responding with a wave or a tip of the non-existent hat.

The boggart-who-lived snapped back to the present just in time to hear Hermione ask, "Harry, are you okay?"

He shook himself slightly, a little dazed. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow in concern. "You've been staring off at nothing for the past," she cast a quick _Tempus_, "ten minutes."

Harry knew dimly that he should be more concerned, but he wasn't, for some odd reason. "I only slept a few hours myself, I think i must have just dozed off."

The bushy girl's left eyebrow joined the right at the top of her head, but she eventually gave in. "Fine, but don't kill yourself, okay? I want to hear you've slept properly."

He gave a cocky salute as Hermione sighed. "Yessir Ma'am Sir!"

He finished Hermione's homework in record time, having Shifted to look like her and use her handwriting. At least he knew muscle memory passed onto his forms. He didn't understand how, but he was glad it did, as he told himself while staring at the front cover of Hermione's amazing find.

'The Bumper Book of Boggarts, Brainless to Brilliant, by Liam Frost.'

Curiosity piqued, Harry flipped open the front cover, wincing as it collided with the wooden arm of his chair of choice; thankfully nobody was awake to hear the inexplicably loud bang it produced, or he'd be forced to explain his sudden interest in Boggarts. He fingered down the contents page, looking for a good place to start, when a line caught his eye. 'Differences and Similarities Between Brilliant and Brainless Boggarts.'

Harry followed an invisible line with his finger, then flicked through to page twenty-two. At the top was the title in large cursive writing, but the boy ignored it in favour of the paragraph below.

'There are many differences between Brilliant and Brainless Boggarts, but most people only learn about the Brainless variety. This is because just a year before the time of this book (1987), they had been thought extinct, for reasons unknown, despite many speculations from experts. It is unclear how, but these creatures have begun appearing once more around the globe. They are still rare enough, however, to not be considered a threat to the magical population, and thus aren't generally touched upon in schools.

The most outstanding difference between the two varieties is not, as the name suggests, intelligence. Although this is a major factor, it is often largely unnoticed by wizards, as it is near impossible to measure intelligence on a scale. "Can that Boggart speak? No? It must be stupid." This is the point that many wizards will stop at, believing that their job is done. What must be asked here is, "WHY don't they speak?" They may simply be separated from us by a language barrier, or perhaps they deem speaking to be too troublesome. It is for this reason that the traits below are the ones most often used to distinguish between the two sets of Boggart.

Firstly and most obviously, Brilliant Boggarts can not breathe without some form of oxygen. If you lock a Brilliant Boggart in a sealed wardrobe, it will eventually die from oxygen deprivation. However, they can take oxygen in any form, be it from the air, water or even as a freezing liquid, as I found out thanks to a strange muggle device. However, unlike Brainless Boggarts, Brilliant ones do not feed upon fear, rather using their abilities for self-protection.

A little known fact about Brainless Boggarts is that they don't take any form when alone, simply shifting rapidly between the last two forms they had taken. Brilliant Boggarts, on the other hand, will stay in a single form when left alone, generally the last form they took, the one they have used the most, or their preferred form.

The preferred form is the physical representation of a Brilliant Boggart's personality. Much like the Animagus in humans, this form has to be earned a little at a time, but unlike humans it is generally a much slower process. A few months after a Brilliant Boggart achieves a similar intelligence to a human teenager, they begin to experience side effects of their preferred form, which will be present in all the Boggart's forms. This can be anything from slitted eyes on a human form, to breathing fire as a mouse. The effects generally include magic; a Boggart with the preferred form of a Dragon would be more suited to fire and flight magic. Also included is personality; a Boggart with a dragon preferred form would most likely be overprotective of anything they see as theirs.

Side effects are generally fairly easy to spot; if a fire crab flies or a seahorse breathes fire, you can be fairly certain that the preferred form is a dragon. On the other hand, many magical creatures have similar traits, both magical and physical; slitted eyes might be a dragon's, or they could belong to a kneazel, while fire breathing could be evidence of a flaming salamander.

It is important that the Boggart does not try to transform without a 'Fear Catalyst'- that is, the fear of a creature, which Boggarts use to transform- when they aren't certain of their preferred form. Transforming into a form other than the preferred without said Catalyst can lock down a Boggart's magic, leaving them stuck in the form until a bezoar is administered. This possibility, while uncommon, is almost certain to happen if the Boggart has drunk a Wolfsbane potion, for reasons impossible to explain, although is likely boils down to the instinct-altering effect of the potion.'

Harry started as Ron stumbled into the room, Neville and Seamus trailing behind him. "Harry, it's breakfast time. What're you doing, reading at stupid o'clock in the morning?"

Giggling (the boys stared at him) at Ron's haggard expression, Harry quickly replied, "sure, let's go."

"Harry, you okay?" Said boy stared back at Neville, confused.

"Yeah, why? I haven't been staring at nothing, have I?"

"Actually yeah, you have," Seamus replied sheepishly, and Harry stood.

"Whatever, time for breakfast!" And Harry sprinted to the dorms, deposited his book and ran back to join the group, which now included a yawning Dean, and walked with them towards the great hall.

"Before we begin our no doubt wonderful breakfast, I have a delightful announcement to make! Although he is not currently present," Harry could tell that Dumbledore hadn't been told about Shift's identity from the man's voice; the headmaster spoke ever so slightly slower when he knew what was going on, but right now he was speaking normally. Well, as normally as an insane but loveable teacher can speak, anyway. Harry found himself thanking Merlin that Dumbledore didn't know; he really didn't want to be forced to sign a registry, as then where would his advantage against Voldemort be?

That's what he told himself, anyway. He actually just didn't want to disappoint the Professor. He wondered why McGonagall and Flitwick hadn't chastised him, but couldn't think or any reason and quickly became bored, so he turned to eat, having completely missed the end of Dumbledore's speech. He would just ask Ron about it later.

He turned, hoping to grab a whole raw fish that had somehow made its way onto the table, before he caught the looks on the group's faces again. "Do I have glowing eyes today? Why are you staring at me?"

"You zoned out again, Harry," Ron alerted him.

Neville chipped in, a concerned look on his face. "I think you should see Madam Pomfrey after breakfast, she'll know what's wrong."

Harry just snorted, turning back to the raw fish and biting down on its belly, much to everyone else's disgust. "Blimey mate, eat something cooked already!"

"Hate cooked," Harry pouted between mouthfuls, "Takes the flavour out."

After the first meal of the day, Ron got ready to leave for Hogsmeade with an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry you can't come, Harry, I'll make sure to bring back some butterbeer."

Harry just grinned. "Teachers can go whenever they want, wherever they want, as long as they attend lessons." Ron's jaw went slack, and Harry giggled again, revelling in Ron's terrified expression. "Anyway, I could go to America if I was back for tomorrow."

Ron shook his head to clear it, then remembered, "where's Hermione?"

"Oh, she's sleeping. Hang on, I'll get her..." Harry hopped up the steps two at a time, and returned a minute later with a surprised Hermione in tow.

"HARRY!"

Said boy turned to his friend innocently. "Yes, 'Mione?"

Hermione took a calming breath, unsure if her heart could take much more stress. "How did you get up the stairs, they have an encha- oh."

"Wha- oh."

"Yeah."

Harry stared down at herself, entirely nonplussed at the sight her eyes were greeted with. "I didn't mean to do that, I'm changing back now."

Ron snapped out of what felt like his fiftieth daze today, to comment quickly, "Please do, really quickly. I'd rather my best mate was still a guy."

Ten minutes later, Ron the dragon, Luna the snorkack, Fred the weasel, George the weasel, Lee Jordan the tarantula, Ginny the bat, Neville the wasp, Hermione the owl and Shift the grumpy half-spider were walking through the passage to the Shrieking Shack, having decided to bypass Filch. All the Animagi knew about the connection between Shift and Harry, and all of them had sworn not to tell anyone else.

"Shift, what's wrong?" Hermione had changed back to her human form.

"I just want my own Animagus form. Everyone else has one, but I'm stuck copying people's fears, and I can't even do that properly!"

Everybody changed back at once to question Shift, and he found himself telling the others about the so called 'preferred form', as well as possible side effects. Lee was the first to comment. "I think I remember a magical creatures book had mouse things that couldn't stand the cold, I'll try to find it when we get back!"

Harry smiled; in the month or so that Harry had known him, Lee had proven a loyal friend, sticking by his mates no matter what. "Thanks, Lee. I think I'll need all the help I can get."

The rest of the walk was largely uneventful, and when the jumbled assortment of animals tumbled out of the passage, they split off into pairs and a three. Ron and Luna partnered, Shift giggling every time he thought about them together, much to the twins' and Lee's horror. Shift thought it was a match made in heaven. Ginny and Neville had already gone off somewhere, both blushing pink as they left. Fred, George and Lee were planning to prank the entirety of Hogsmeade with an _Engorgio_'d powder bomb and some cold fire pills. (just add powder!)

That left Shift and Hermione, which they both felt was perfect as they shared a cuddle, ready to leave for wherever.

Shift found himself once again staring at Honeydukes, though it wasn't the smell of chocolate that reeled him in; rather, it was the strange smell of... Something. "'Mione, can we go to Honeydukes first? I smell something weird and nice over there!"

Hermione huffed frustratedly. "Not until you tell me why you're acting so strangely. I wouldn't mind, but it just happened overnight!"

"Well I figured if I wanted to find my preferred form, I'd need to act how I feel a bit more," he stated, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

Hermione cringed a little. She didn't know this Harry! She was still his friend, but he seemed much more... Childish! She didn't know his likes, dislikes, anything! And he was so much more blunt in the way he spoke, as if he forgot that not everyone knows the answers!

Shift grabbed Hermione's face gently with two legs, snapping her out of her thoughts as he squeezed, giggling at the strange fish-like face she was forced to make. She shook her head to clear it of thoughts, then slapped away his legs and pouted slightly. "Okay, we'll go to Honeydukes. Only if we go to the Three Broomsticks afterwards, though."

"Alright!" And they set off for the sweet shop together.

As the two stepped into Honeydukes, Shift went a little light-headed, looking wildly around for the source of the strange perfume. He eventually figured out its general direction, tripping people up with his legs and prompting tens of people to hide their backs against the wall, with Hermione trailing behind and muttering apologies to the terrified population.

"Foun't it! 'Mione, hey! Issa box'a stuff!"

Hermione sensed danger and idiocy in the near future, and sprinted to find Shift with his nose to a box of... "Catnip, Shift, really?" The spider only giggled; from his perspective the room was spinning crazily.

"C'we ge'some?" He heard his own jumbled speech and his laughter renewed itself. "Qui gessum!"

"Only if you don't smell it until we're back at the common room."

"Aww... 'Kay!" The gryffindor girl sighed in relief; she hadn't expected Shift to give it up so easily. She conjured a sphere around the box to keep the smell away from him, and strode up to the counter.

Shift was too giggly to hear her hour-long rant about leaving catnip in the open.

"Alright! Le's go to the Bee Throomsticks!" Although the catnip had worn off slightly, Shift was still getting words muddled up, and Hermione found herself dreading their trip to the pub.

She needn't have worried though. Apparently butterbeer was a catnip antidote, and with that thought Hermione bought ten more bottles to store with the small box.

Shift, do you think your preferred form could be a cat of some sort?

He snorted lightly. "'Mione, what cat would act like I do? I think it's some magical creature, like a rodent or something, which just happens to like catnip." He took another swig of butterbeer and slammed it on the table. "Why can't I just know for sure?"

"Oh, stop whining, it won't fix anything." She considered, then added, "Let's buy some Magical Creatures books from Tomes and Scrolls. I need some for research, anyway."

After passing through T&S, the pair jumped between shops for a while, before calling it a day. Shift had bought a few powder bombs, which reminded him of something unsettling. The memories were a bit hazy after the catnip, but he could have sworn he'd heard-

BOOM. The joke shop shuddered as outside was suddenly coated in a fine white powder, which looked surprisingly like snow.

Except for a blanket of pink fire, which only burned the powder, leaving no scorch marks as it should have. The fire died out quickly, leaving absolutely no evidence that it ever existed. Then the sky darkened to a night blue, revealing what seemed to be muggle lasers, highlighting the top of the building opposite Zonko's. "PLEASE WELCOME FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY TO THE STAGE!" Lee Jordan's voice rang out over the pair's heads, and Shift grinned in anticipation.

"THANK YOU-"

"-ONE AND ALL!"

The twins waited for the unsure cheers and evil looks to die down, and opened their mouthes together.

The they walked off the stage, heads held high, to the confused muttering of the gathered crowd. Only Shift was clapping, but he had four legs to clap with and two hands to whistle with. He waited for the confused clapping to start again, before dragging Hermione to go and congratulate the trio on a prank well done.

* * *

><p><strong>A bumper length chapter! I'm hoping to continue writing longer chapters, if only to make myself feel accomplished.<strong>

**What is Harry's preferred form? Find out some time in the distant future!**

**I changed Harry's personality to be more carefree, more childish and less embarrassed by things, but my excuse is that he was trying to hide his long-term personality change, worrying about it. When he read the Boggart book, he realised that the change was because of his preferred form and relaxed, letting out the giggles and such.**

**Yes, Harry is incredibly giggly. He finds everything hilarious, and now he doesn't have to hide that.**


	22. Firewhiskey

**If you're looking for someone who can actually write, go buy the Harry Potter books. If you stay here, you'll be disappointed.**

* * *

><p>Sitting down for the Halloween feast, Harry completely forgot about his prediction of Black's attack in favour of filling his plate with the oddest combinations of foods. He had the regular things, such as pumpkin pasties, but he had also taken things like raw tuna and an entire family-sized bowl of popcorn. He looked around, gnawing on a couple of un-popped kernels, taking in the bats flying overhead (he felt a pang of jealousy as he watched), the floating pumpkins and the orange and black streamers decorating the hall.<p>

Eventually he got over his wonder, and he listened in on other people, each conversation distracting him from the others so he never got the full picture. He heard Hermione and Ron arguing about broomsticks versus the Floo network, while Seamus and Dean were chatting about the next Quidditch game, Gryffindor against Hufflepuff. Harry tuned them out and reached for a cauldron cake that had just appeared.

"Harry?"

The scarless (not that anyone noticed) boy looked up at Hermione, who was looking at him with a strange expression, and he fought down the urge to laugh. She seemed worried about him, after all, so he replied with a simple "Yeah?"

She seemed to relax, then put on a stern face. "That's it. If you're falling asleep all the time, we need to see Madam Pomfrey after dinner."

Harry looked a little put out, but knew Hermione was trying to help so he agreed without hesitation, diving into his dessert, then recoiling as the cream inside proved far too sweet. "Anyone want a cauldron cake? I've just discovered that I hate them."

Harry spent the next twenty minutes testing which desserts he liked, with Ron accepting the ones he didn't. He eventually found himself eating popcorn again; all the other dishes having proved themselves sickening to the now-depressed boy. "I used to like this stuff," he wailed. "Why, Merlin, why?"

Hermione steeled herself, aware of the havoc she would cause with the dreaded c-word, then put an arm round his back, her hand resting on his shoulder in a soothing manner. "Don't worry, you can have some catnip when we get back to the Gryffindor tower," she consoled him in a whisper.

The green eyed Boggart forgot to whine after that.

half an hour later saw Hermione and Ron dragging Harry, who had abruptly changed his mind at the end of the feast, towards the hospital wing. "Harry, if you don't come willingly with us," Hermione began, but couldn't think of a good enough threat.

Ron could, however, and he finished the sentence for her. "You won't get any catnip!" Harry went limp and allowed the pair to pull him along. Hermione went pale in remembrance of her promise at the feast, and Ron, who hadn't seen Shift at Hogsmeade, was left contemplating what could possibly be so wrong about catnip as to provoke her reaction.

Poppy Pomfrey glanced up as the hospital wing door opened, and let out a sigh. "Really, Mr Potter, is it too much to ask that you go three months without ending up here?"

Harry shrugged. "Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but the others forced me to come."

"Right, well what seems to be the problem?" the matron asked distractedly, filling out a form of some kind.

"Well," he started, but Hermione cut in.

"He's been falling asleep for around ten minutes each hour," she explained, dislodging Harry's concentration.

"I have?"

Hermione nodded. "You don't ever notice it, so we haven't mentioned it outside of the first and last time, but since I first saw you this morning, you've just closed your eyes and dozed off every hour, at around forty minutes past each time."

"That explains why you've been looking at me so weirdly," he assumed. "Wait, won't this interrupt classes?"

"That's one reason I'm worried," Hermione confessed. "What do you think, Professor Lupin?"

As she turned towards the door, a dry cough was heard emanating from behind the closed door, and it creaked open, revealing a haggard Defence Professor, who chuckled and asked, "how did you know, Miss Granger?"

"I saw you get up when we left the feast, so I tracked you as we walked," she told him. "Being an owl is really helpful sometimes."

Ron cringed worse that he ever had in mention of Voldemort. "Hermione, Madam Pomfrey's right here-"

"Well she needs to know so she can treat us, right?" Hermione reasoned, shutting Ron's protesting mouth.

"I need to know what, exactly?" the medi-witch snapped, feeling a little left out of this nonsensical conversation.

Harry jumped into the conversation. "We'll tell you, but we need you to promise something."

She raised a dubious eyebrow. "And what might that be?"

"Not to tell Professor Dumbledore."

Pomfrey huffed indignantly. "Me tell that old codger about my patients' secrets! Of course I won't, he might have given me a job, but he's nosey enough without me making it easier!"

Ron sighed in relief, but Harry ignored him in favour of setting the healer straight. "Me, Ron, Hermione and a few others are Animagi, Ron's a dragon, Hermione's an owl and I'm a Boggart," he rattled off, watching Pomfrey's shocked face.

Except that her face hadn't changed. At all. She simply blinked twice, before dropping her head into her hands. "Why must you always make my job difficult?" she complained morosely, then raised her head when Professor Lupin decided to make a statement.

"I seem to remember that some Boggarts have a so called 'preferred form', with traits that pass to all other forms," Lupin mused, "and I remember a magical rodent of some description, with a similar sleep pattern to what you described during the winter months. They are called draconemuses, a mashup of draconem, for dragon, and mus, for mouse, because they are essentially flying mice."

"How are they magical?" Hermione asked, confused. "The non-magical world has flying squirrels, although they actually just glide, so does the draconemus use magic to fly?"

"Almost correct, Hermione. They actually use magic to create water vapour, then eject that out of their bodies to push themselves up, almost like a muggle space rocket."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Ooh! Ooh! I know!" he yelled, swinging his arm above his head wildly and bouncing on his toes. Lupin chuckled and pointed to the boy like he would in class. "That's why I keep freezing up in the cold! I'm always making water vapour, which turns back to water and freezes on me!"

"That would make the most sense, Harry," the professor replied. "What intrigues me is that the dementors don't affect you in the usual sense."

"Usual?"

Lupin sighed. Honestly, couldn't the brightest boy in his year add two and two together? "Most people experience their worst memory during contact with the dementors, no matter how well it had been forgotten. You, on the other hand, seem to suffer no ill effects mental-wise, despite having seen one of your parents die."

"Well the first few times I saw one, I accidentally Shifted into a Patronus," the Boggart admitted hastily, eager to sort out any misconceptions. "Maybe that held them off, because I heard screaming when I couldn't Shift in Hogsmeade."

The werewolf nodded absently, but the action was lost in Ron's quick change of subject. "Is there any way to stop Harry from falling asleep?" he asked nobody in particular.

Madam Pomfrey was, predictably, the one to answer. "The only reasonable choice of action I can think of is to gradually change Harry's sleep patterns so that he's only asleep between lessons, and have you take him to each one," she muttered. "I suppose that it's lucky you all attend the same classes, or this arrangement wouldn't be possible!"

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," Harry started, but Poppy was having none of it.

"Sorry for what, Harry? Your father would be proud, always sneaking off to break the rules in some roundabout way." A smile curved the corner of her mouth in remembrance of Harry's father and his friends. "He would be especially proud of your achievement, or maybe a little jealous, because he managed the transformation far later than you, and that was with the whole library at his disposal!"

Harry was distracted once more by Hermione, who was the only person present that remembered the current dilemma. "How are we going to get Harry between lessons if he's asleep, anyway?"

Professor Lupin chipped in once more. "You could just levitate him under the invisibility cloak," he suggested, then slapped a hand over his mouth.

Fortunately, Pomfrey didn't seem to notice his mention of the rare magical object, instead saying something along the lines of, "that could work..."

Back at the Gryffindor tower, Harry walked into the Fat Lady's portrait. His head bounced off the canvas, and he cursed mildly and said the password, before dragging Ron and Hermione through the common room. Hermione rolled her eyes and fetched the catnip and butterbeer, levitating them under the exceptionally useful invisibility cloak so nobody would notice.

In the boys' dorm, Harry and Ron cleared their beds for the mass quantities of alchohol, then Ron had an idea. "Why don't we send for the rest of the group?"

And so, Harry gave Hedwig a series of letters addressed to Luna, the twins and the rest, and ten minutes later, the entire group were strewn across the room, over thirty bottles of butterbeer accompanying them, along with five bottles of firewhiskey (bought by the twins under a glamour in Hogsmeade), and the small box, labelled 'Catnip Candies!', sitting in a forcefield next to a pursed-lipped Hermione.

With many cries of "Cheers!", the butterbeer was opened, and the barrier over the catnip was removed. Hermione threw one of what seemed to be sugar cubes, and lobbed it into the centre of the room. Everyone dove for cover as a black-haired missile snatched up to treat, already hyper just from the smell.

Unfortunately, nobody had realised the effect that catnip would have on Harry. Adding hyperactivity to general playfulness wasn't usually a good idea, especially when you're dealing with a shapeshifter. The next twenty minutes were spent with Harry leaping around the room on all fours, managing incredible feats of ignorance, such as sprinting up a wall, only stopping when he hit his face on the ceiling. After a few minutes of simply watching his antics, the twins discovered a spell to emulate a muggle laser-pointer (_Lumos Trabem_), and Harry started chasing the light, smacking Ron on the head more than once in his attempt to catch the glowing prey.

Neville voiced a question that set everyone's mind racing, around halfway through Harry's search for the red light. "Shouldn't we all have names for our Animagus forms, like Harry has Shift?"

Ginny and Neville began brainstorming ideas together, with the others chiming in for their own names, and several ironic names for others. Eventually, Ginny became Hexit, derived from her Bat Bogey 'Hex'; Neville was Stria, another word for line or stripe; Lee was aptly named Mr Daddy after a daddy longlegs buzzed around his head for over five minutes; the twins were Heads and Tails, for obvious reasons, before they changed it to Teads and Hails; Luna decided on Norbert for some odd reason; Hermione had picked Clip, after Ron had jokingly suggested Streaker; and Harry had picked Ron's name of Burst while still stalking the red light. Harry's future draconemus form was given the name Fog, just in case.

Eventually, everyone became so drunk that nobody really cared about much. The names were written down in shaky handwriting by Hermione, before she fell asleep on Harry's lap. Luckily the Boggart had drunk a little butterbeer by then, and the catnip had been confiscated, so he was mostly sober. Except for the huge amount of firewhiskey that he had also drunk. As he teetered on the edge of consciousness, an inebriated voice from his left caught what remained of his attention: "Harry, mate, yeh hav' a tail. An' big ears."

One by one, everyone fell asleep, the twins and Lee with the Marauders' Map spread out between them, Neville and Ginny curled up together, and Ron and Luna likewise. The dorm-mates who hadn't been invited stepped in around half an hour later, saw the state of the room, and turned right back around, planning to sleep on the sofas.

A silent figure went unnoticed as it crept up to the dorms, shuffled through clothing, bedding and the like, before calling its mission a failure and turning heel before dawn came around.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't know what possessed me to write this, but it might be the fact that I accidentally overwrote the chapter when I was messing around. I like this version so much better, anyway. The old one made as much sense as purple and a half.<strong>

**A few things to clear up, mostly about Harry: He doesn't have his scar, still. He just hides that fact under his now fairly long fringe. He does wear his glasses, even though he doesn't need them, but he took the lenses out.**

**About Shifting: Harry can Shift into any HUMANOID form, as long as he has the required fear catalyst nearby. Without one, he can still transform, but he runs a risk of getting form locked. He can transform into any HUMAN form without a fear catalyst, and without any danger, but he still tries to be careful just in case.**

**Also, he can transform certain features. For example, with Ron's fear, he could become a black spider or a brown one, because Ron seriously doesn't care about the colour.**

**Hope that cleared a few things up.**

**Peace out.**


	23. Magus

**you must be drunk if you think I'm JK Rowling.**

* * *

><p>The next morning, Harry jolted awake at ten to eight; not much time to collect the hangover cures his friends would need before lessons started, but he felt he could have a chance. Unfortunately, that would mean flying right out of the window. Harry checked through his friends' fears, hoping for a bird, but willing to take anything he could get.<p>

Fred feared George's death, George feared Fred's death, Lee feared manticores, Ginny feared diaries, Neville feared a torture spell of some sort, and Harry already knew Hermione and Ron's fears, so he turned to Luna.

Luna feared bludgers. This being Luna, Harry didn't question it, instead steeling himself, leaping out of the window, and Shifting into the heavy iron form, praying that he could control his flight.

Sadly, it was less a flight and more a plummet, as he found out far too late that he couldn't copy enchantments on inanimate objects. He could still breathe, on an entirely unrelated note, being humanoid and all.

Shift tried to focus on the immediate issue, which was usually easy to do when he was about to die. This time was no different, and he snapped to attention, reversing his Shift and pulling his wand out in desperation.

_"Depello Momentum!"_

Harry accidentally made his cushioning charm permanent in his panicked state, but that hardly mattered as he landed softly at the bottom of the Gryffindor tower, then sprinted towards the Whomping Willow, thrusting himself forwards and sliding into the hole feet first. As his feet hit the bottom of the passage, he was already running in the general direction of Hogsmeade, bouncing off the walls more than once in his hurry.

Ten minutes later, he was clambering back out of the passage, hangover cures in hand, paling as he realised exactly which tree he was stood under. The boy gave a small yelp and rolled to the side, dimly aware of the branch that missed his left eye by a hair's breadth, and already scrambling towards the castle in a frenzy, unable to defend himself with the eight bottles in his arms. He wandlessly conjured a gobstone and kicked it straight into the knot on the Willow. The tree ground to a halt and Harry giggled from the adrenaline.

Apparently he really liked action. Not unexpected, what with the draconemus thing and all, but very welcome as it would help him deal with that sort of deadly situation that always managed to find him.

The only problem now was getting back to the tower before he was missed. He charged through the side entrance to the castle, turned a few corners and came to the grand staircase. Unfortunately, the set of steps he was on chose that exact moment to move, halting his progress.

Not one to be denied, Harry jumped, planted a foot into the still-moving banister, and kicked off, far further than he would have thought possible, before realising that his hands were full, so he would have to land the jump using just his legs. Not ideal.

Harry's foot made contact with the floor on the opposite side of the gap, and he flailed around to no avail as he lost his balance, tilting dangerously towards the ground four floors below. He couldn't fall down there! It would smash the potions!

And get him killed, he mused, but when _wasn't_ that happening?

In a last-ditch attempt to stay upright, the boy swung a leg off the floor, further disrupting his balance, and hooked it onto the banister. After an agonising second of limbo, he mustered the strength to pull himself back onto the platform in a way that surely defied physics, not that he was complaining.

Harry left without a backwards glance, and soon came across the Fat Lady's portrait. Something was off, though. The canvas almost seemed to be peeling off...

That would explain the lack of terrible events on Halloween, Harry guessed, gazing in shock at the ribbons of fabric that used to make up a portrait. He sighed in despair; all that work had been for nothing if he couldn't even get into the tower!

"Oh, h-hello, dear," came the shaky voice of the Fat Lady.

"What happened?" Harry asked the trembling woman, who currently resided behind an escort of tutu-wearing trolls that Harry recognised from a certain tapestry.

"I-it was Black! He came down here last night, demanding me to let him in! I told him no, I wouldn't, and he slashed my painting!" she wailed, breaking down into sobs. The trolls looked uncomfortable, and one started patting her gently on the back.

She wouldn't give Harry another word, but she opened up silently after the boy gave her the password, and he climbed through, passing his sleeping dorm-mates on his way to the boys' dorms.

The others were just getting up. Lee and the twins, having drunk the most the night before, were still huddled together, but the rest were alive enough to accept the potions Harry gave them, most of them downing the bottles in one swig. When they finished, the girls left to get ready for classes, and Harry was left with Neville and Ron. After gulping down his potion, Ron put on a serious face.

"Seriously though, you had a fluffy tail and ears and everything," he told the boy-who-lived, ignoring the poorly concealed laughter escaping Neville.

Harry's curiosity piqued. "What'd they look like?"

Ron shrugged. "They were brown and white, the ears were really short and on top of your head, and the tail was just like a brown fox tail, with a white tip." Harry nodded, concentrating on the description, and tried to Shift the extra parts on. It was incredibly easy, more so than his regular transformations, but he felt that something was off. What that was became clear when Neville opened his mouth, and a set of two voices, one loud enough to be painful and the other far too quiet, came out instead of Neville's usual voice.

"Are you okay?" The double voice asked him, and he wondered through the pain if he was in some weird and creepy dream. It was all he could do to shake his head as he scrunched up his eyes and pulled down on the new furry triangles sticking out from his head.

After a few minutes, Harry opened his eyes blearily, the bright light making him flinch after all this darkness. He realised that a similar explanation could be provided to his new ears' sensitivity; he had never had the extra ears before so of course they would be sensitive! He grinned stupidly, then blinked, yawned and said, "'Kay, I'm gonna sleep now," barely acknowledging the double voice.

Harry shook himself awake, almost knocking the cloak off his head in an irrational panic; the watery material felt closed in, and his claustrophobia fought its way out. Hermione's hand found his shoulder, stopping his bid for freedom, and she whispered softly, "Shift back before you take it off." With a jolt he registered the double voice, though it wasn't quite as abusive on his ears this time, rather simply jumbling his hearing a little. It took him longer than usual to register what she said, so he hastily Shifted back into his human self and slipped the cloak off, regarding it in something not dissimilar to disgust.

"Where..?"

"We're at Hagrid's class," Hermione, with her normal, single voice, filled him in. "Magical creatures starts in ten minutes." Harry groaned. It wasn't that he hated the subject or teacher, but after Malfoy's run in with the Hippogriff, Hagrid had been neglecting the dangerous (fun) side of the subject, instead opting for boring creatures, such as flobberworms, much to Harry's displeasure and the rest of the class's relief.

Harry was in for a fun surprise, however, as he found when Hagrid appeared ten minutes later for the lesson in front of his hut.

The giant brought out a gigantic crate out with him, and set it onto the lawn, where it began emitting strange bangs, dark smoke seeping through the air-holes a few seconds later. Harry's eyes lit up instantly, and he asked loudly, "Are we gonna be looking at tiny dragons, Hagrid?"

The Slytherins, with whom the Gryffindors had a joint class, snickered, but Harry couldn't care less about them. Malfunction chose that time to swagger up late to the group, as he had done since the Buckbeak incident, and drawled, "You'd want to look out, Potter, they're probably dementor babies! Don't touch them or you'll freeze!"

Hermione seemed about to retaliate, but Harry simply laughed and waved at something off in the distance. Malfunction followed his gaze and a dementor entered his field of vision.

It was waving back.

Needless to say, the blond haired Slytherin dropped the subject quickly and turned back to the exploding box, trying and failing to remove the image of Harry commanding a horde of the things. "Now that tha's sorted ou'," Hagrid rumbled obliviously, "I've got a special lesson fer yeh all today." He unfastened a latch on the top of the crate, and flipped the lid off, revealing... things. "They're called Blast-Ended Skrewts, and they'll be our firs' real project," Hagrid said happily, as the class crowded round to get a closer look. "I reckon they're around two months old."

All but Ron and Harry recoiled as one of the things exploded. Harry would have, too, except that they were so interesting! They looked like a cross between crabs and scorpions, with no recognisable face. They had oval bodies coated in plates, like an armadillo's, and had six crabby-looking legs sticking out of the sides. On one end was a scorpion tail, poised to strike, and on the other was a sort of jagged pincer, which opened sideways and shot a blast of fire every so often.

After a few seconds another one self-destructed, the explosion coming from the scorpion tail, and sent the others sprawling. The one that exploded seemed fine afterwards, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, glad that they could last long enough to have some fun with. He picked one up and brought it out of the crate, then set it down and began poking it insistently with a finger. The three foot long crab-thing skittered away from his touch, releasing a burst of energy from the pincer end and sending most of the class running.

Ron appeared next to Harry, dropping another Skrewt on the grass, and the two began battling it out, with the best friends cheering their chosen creature on. Harry's opened its pincer, but Ron's wedged it open with its own and shot a flame directly down the other's, for lack of a better term, throat. Harry's replied with a left hook from its tail, knocking Ron's over, and the stalemate resumed.

Eventually things got out of hand, ending with both Skrewts exploding in the boys' faces. Both Gryffindors seemed unaffected, blinking the smoke out of their eyes, turning to one another, and grinning in unison.

Harry opened with a right hook, which Ron leapt back to dodge. The redhead pulled a fist back, regained his footing and jabbed Harry straight in the face. Harry leaned back on one leg to absorb the punch, then countered by bringing the other leg up, catching Ron in the chin. At that point, the Skrewts joined in and a free-for-all ensued, Ron punting one of the mutant lobsters back into the crate, the remaining one slapping Harry in the temple with its tail, and Harry responding with a sweeping kick, which 'accidentally' tripped up Malfunction, who sent his two bodyguards into the brawl and began firing off hexes.

Eventually, the Slytherins gave up and watched with ill-disguised glee as the best friends beat each other into the ground, occasionally shooting spells to trip them up. After a good fight, the pair sat back to back on the ground, badly bruised, grinning madly and panting heavily. Hagrid didn't seem to mind the outburst of violence; he was smiling too, the adrenaline having affected him almost as much as Harry and Ron.

Harry remembered something important, cast _Tempus_, and whispered something to Ron, then stumbled to Hagrid's hut, complaining about a back ache and the need to sit down. He leant on the door to open it, walked in, and promptly fell asleep on the sofa, dreaming of finally flying as Fog.

Ten minutes later, Harry woke up, yawning and clicking his neck, then trudged out of the small home, expecting to see order of some sort, such as a class packed up and ready to leave for brunch. Instead it was a storm of chaos. Every single three foot long exploding lobster was out of the crate, which had apparently dissolved, and Hagrid, Ron and Hermione, along with a few helpful Gryffindors and even a Slytherin or two were sprinting around, attempting to round up the creatures before they destroyed everything. A few of the Skrewts lay dead with burn marks covering them, but none had yet been captured. Perhaps that had something to do with the lack of a cage to keep them in.

With a well placed _Impedimenta_, Harry discovered that the Skrewts had weak spots on their bellies, and relayed the information to the others. The entire class, but most of all Hermione, chipped in to stop the rampaging crabs and tie them up. They finished almost twenty minutes later, and as the last one was thrown into a conjured pen, the entire class turned as one to face Harry. Now that the immediate danger was over, Ron and Hermione were gazing at him with a mixture of shock and pity.

With all the glares, it was no wonder Harry felt penned in. Irritably, he asked, "Am I a vampire or something?"

"Try half-fox," Dean muttered, and Harry finally noticed the double voice, which now seemed pleasant rather than abominable. He slowly pulled his hand up to his left ear and tugged hard, wincing as he realised how sensitive it was. He swished a dull brown bushy tail, with a creamy white tip, and decided that he rather liked his new parts. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to admire them, as the entire class began spreading rumors right in front of him about the origin of his new parts.

He couldn't care less about what they thought, but what if Dumbledore found out? He'd work out the Shift secret in less than a second and begin trying to find a way to convert Harry back to a human.

Harry didn't want to be human! It was more fun being a Boggart, and this could be a huge help against Black!

Also Voldemoron, but he wasn't an immediate threat for the time being.

Getting his thoughts back on track, Harry tried to figure out a simple explanation for his current state. He went through a list of Magicks: it could be a transfiguration, but that was too close to the truth. Maybe a glamour charm, but that left him without a reason for casting it, other than fun, which was far too flimsy.

A single Magick shot through the boy's mind, one that he had read about while searching for subjects to teach, and he could have laughed at himself for being such an idiot as to not notice this perfect excuse for his humanoid transformations. Instead, he put on a grimace as if he didn't want to divulge the information and sighed, "Okay, fine. If you really need to know, I'm a Metamorphmagus." He laughed in what he felt seemed like a bitter manner. "Bloody accidental morphing. I only figured it out yesterday, too."

To make a point, he Shifted off the Foggy parts and turned his hair and eyes a dull grey, then walked off with his head down, aiming for the castle, cackling like an evil genius in his mind as he went.

* * *

><p><strong>I can't believe I actually thought of that! Brilliant, if I do say so myself. Which I do. <strong>**I was originally thinking of having Harry's abilities kept a complete secret, but I love this, in all honesty. So much more fun to write.**

**Malfunction finds out about Harry's connection to the Tatters, and the school sees him as a Metamorphmagus! Next time: The game against Hufflepuff!**

**Now might be a good time to say that I read every single review, and while I probably won't include many, suggestions are greatly appreciated!**

**Chiao!**


	24. Broomstick

**The length of the chapter has nothing to do with anything.**

* * *

><p>"HARRY!"<p>

Harry found himself pinned to the floor of the Shrieking Shack, a long while after the Metamorphmagus revelation, by a certain bushy haired witch, with Ron and Luna watching and smirking. "Hey, Mione," the boy-who-lived gasped, grinning even as he was crushed by her supercharged hug.

"How did you do that!" she shouted more than asked. "You're brilliant!"

Harry grinned and hugged her back, Shifting two spider legs to haul them back to a standing position. "I just remembered all the research we did," he told her humbly.

"Everyone believed it, mate," Ron chipped in. "You had, what, five seconds to make an excuse? Bloody brilliant," he praised, shaking his head in stark disbelief.

"Never would've happened without your help," he reminded them, then giggled, laughing ever harder as Ron's face drained of colour.

"Never laugh like that again," the redhead chided him, shuddering.

"It suits you, Harry," Luna sniggered, and Ron jumped back as if Neville had stung him, with a look that conveyed his betrayal completely. That set Hermione off, and all of a sudden Ron was surrounded by giggling girls. And boy.

"Make it stop," he whimpered, curling in a pitiful ball and covering his ears. Eventually the laughter died down, leaving a comfortable silence.

Obviously, that was quickly shattered by Hermione, who had only just released her hold on black haired Boggart. "What were you doing here, anyway? You were going to the common room, right?"

Harry shrugged and nodded viciously. "I jumped out of the window into a permanent cushioning charm," he stated proudly, puffing out his chest in a manner similar to Percy.

Hermione blinked. "Okay," she told him nonchalantly. The effect was ruined when she saw the shocked expression on Harry's face (he had been expecting a rant about health and safety), and fell back to the ground, laughing so much that her eyes watered. "That was hilarious!" she managed, before looking up, catching the boy's eye and collapsing again.

"Right, well anyway," Harry started, completely nonplussed at his girlfriend's actions, "I managed to do something I think you'll like," he finished, beaming at them all.

"Ooh, what?" Luna questioned, rocking from heel to toe and back.

Harry was gone, and in his place sat a... thing. It was around a foot tall, and had a roughly pear shaped body, with a head almost the same size, both coated in dull brown fur. The triangular ears that Harry had grown before were now perched naturally on Fog's head, and the three foot long, extra bushy tail swished behind him as if it was meant to be. The long feet stood vertical as he sat, seeming remarkably human despite appearances, and the stubby arms dangled in front of him. The creature's eyes were an electrified green, and a black tuft of hair stuck out at an odd angle on top of his head. Another tuft, this one the same brown as the rest of him, stuck out of his chest, reminding Luna and Hermione, who had both watched muggle television, of a cartoon character. The black on his head stretched down his back, ending in a point just before his tail began.

Fog twitched an ear towards some unheard sound, brought his tiny hands up to his mouth, and laughed cutely, but rather than the surprisingly fitting male voice that Harry had, this laughter sounded more like a playful kitten mewing. For a second the world stood still as the humans' minds rebooted, then the spell was broken and Fog was purring, curled up on Hermione's lap, being stroked and scratched behind the ears, with both Ron and Luna hovering behind them, looking very much like they wanted a turn to pet him.

"Bow before me, mortals!" Fog lazily demanded, but it came out as a series of mews.

A few minutes later, or maybe a few hours, Hermione cast a _Tempus_ and shrieked, renewing the rumours of ghosts in the nearby village. "We have Transfig in ten minutes!" she yelled, standing up and stuffing Fog, who was complaining loudly, into the neck of her hoodie. After a few seconds, the dragon mouse's head popped out of the front, and the two third-year humans set off at a break-neck pace, batting away the Willow's branches with an overcharged _Protego_ and reaching the castle in record time.

Unfortunately, they had forgotten that Harry was still Fog, and so the lesson passed with forty points from Gryffindor for the missing-boy-who-lived and Fog pretending to be Hermione's playful pet. Ron joked about how easy that would be for someone with Harry's personality, but he didn't come close to the truth. Fog spent the entire time playing small pranks on the Ravenclaws with odds and ends from on top of the desks, and everyone bought his disguise immediately.

Everybody instantly recognised the gigantic tail as the one that Harry had had, but Hermione waved it off as Harry using Fog to copy from, in order to practice more easily. Hermione had been right; wizards didn't have an ounce of logic.

The days passed quickly after that little mess up, with the quidditch match looming ahead. Harry had taken to skipping boring lessons and flying on his Nimbus, often falling asleep half-way through his flights and falling to the ground, sustaining more than one injury. It was then that he realised why his scar was gone; as a Boggart, he healed faster, removing all traces of the injury. He had actually landed hard enough to break a wrist in one session, and it had healed in a day without medical attention. Harry just guessed that being a shapeshifter would help you to heal, and didn't think much of it.

Another thing that Harry realised was that he reverted to Fog whenever he slept, which meant that he would have to finish games in less than an hour to keep his secret.

Harry hadn't gotten any closer to flying as Fog, and it started to get to him. He didn't even know how draconemuses were supposed to fly, despite Lupin's fairly frequent tips, and using a broom to figure out how to fly couldn't help him any more than using a toaster and expecting to figure out how a television worked.

The day of the game flew up to greet the students, and Harry found himself standing on the dark pitch, already soaked to the skin. He didn't mind the feeling, but what he did mind was the staring. It was obvious as to why; in the cold, the vapour that Harry's body always emitted condensed in the air, and to anybody who didn't know, it looked a lot like smoke was billowing out of him.

He explained, simply, "Metamorphmagick accident," and the rest of the team dropped the subject, but not before staring at twins, who were snickering in the corner.

The whistle blew as the quaffle was released, and Harry instantly found a bludger on his currently metaphorical tail. He sloth rolled under it, and it skinned the back his hands as it shot past him. He could hardly see through the rain and steam, and was immensely glad that his glasses had no lenses to get wet and hamper his sight even more.

As the tens of minutes drew on, Harry cast a Tempus. It read thirty five past, so Harry had exactly five minutes to catch the snitch before he fell off his broom in a deep slumber. He was soaked through, but he really didn't care as he searched the pitch, ground and stands for the snitch. He noticed a glint of gold from behind Forge's neck and pushed towards it, having to compensate for the wind as he went.

Out of nowhere came Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff seeker, who was approaching from a much more favourable angle and also had the Nimbus 2000, though not in the brilliant shade of pink that Harry felt accounted for speed. Harry pushed himself further down onto his broom, ignoring everything else, and began to gain ground towards the speedy little ball.

He almost had a hand touching the snitch when it shot higher, and he followed it, Cedric hot on his tail. He grinned back as the Hufflepuff used his slipstream and shouted, "Good luck to both of us, right?"

"Good luck!" Cedric replied from right next to Harry, the steam almost hiding the identical smirk on his face.

A whizzing sound and Harry's broom splintered.

Harry tore his gaze off the winged ball and saw that the end of his broom had vanished, smashed off by a bludger. His mind went into overdrive as the iron ball came for a second pass, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of gold diving towards the ground, followed by a streak of yellow. In an instant the cloud of steam was concentrated underneath him, shooting out of the soles of his feet. Unfortunately, that couldn't keep him up completely, and he began to slowly sink to the ground.

Another whizz sounded from behind him, and Harry's eyes gleamed as he thought of a last-ditch attempt to win. This would be amazing if he could pull it off.

With the exact timing necessary for a seeker, Harry pulled up his legs, pointing the soles backward with the steam still projecting itself from them, propelling him forward to a similar speed to that of the iron ball. He eased off ever so slightly, and the ball made contact with his feet.

He dropped the remainder of the pink broom, which had only been good for stabilisation, and pointed his hands downwards, concentrating the water vapour into them to guide his flight.

Cedric heard another whizzing noise and turned back for a second, making out a bludger hot on his tail. His jaw slackened as he registered the red uniformed boy standing horizontal on the edge of it, gaining on him every second. He barely noticed the yelling coming from that same direction.

"GOOD GAME!"

As the boy-who-did-the-impossible's hand closed on the tiny ball, Cedric could safely say he'd been bested in the most incredible way, before a chill washed over the stadium, cancelling out all happy thoughts and leaving only despair.

Cedric didn't realise that Harry didn't have a broom to glide down on, or that he was currently plummeting toward the ground.

Fortunately, somebody did. At exactly forty minutes past, a sleeping mouse was handed over to Hermione by a distinctly less scabby than average dementor. She thanked it, and conjured a Patronus to ward off its less than friendly companions. Before she could actually do anything, however, the kind dementor, which Hermione then realised must be Joy, reached under its cloak and pulled out... chocolate.

The Professors and students watched in wide eyed wonder as the reapers hesitated, then queued up to get their own bar of the stuff. After all, if one dementor liked them, why wouldn't the others?

Next to Ron, a squeaky voice made its owner heard. "Mr Weasley, has Mr Potter made an appearance yet?" Nobody other than Harry, Ron and Hermione knew about Harry's new form, so Ron pointed wordlessly at the large rodent curled in its own tail in Hermione's arms, and Flitwick nodded. "Well, don't you think it best to take him to Madam Pomfrey?"

He chuckled as Hermione leapt out of her seat and dashed towards the castle, closely followed by Ron.

"'Lo, Madam Pomfrey," Fog mumbled as he sleepily opened his eyes. It took him over a minute to register the purring that had left his mouth.

"Really, Harry, can't you go any time at all without almost murdering yourself?" the haggard healer admonished him, before grimacing resignedly. "Excellent catch of course, I just wish you weren't so _stubborn_!" Fog's smile was infectious, and Poppy found herself with the first real grin she had worn in a long time. "I suppose your friends can come in, now that you're awake. They'd just sneak in while I'm not looking, anyway."

Ron and Hermione burst through the doors at this remark, Hermione blushing slightly at the accuracy of the statement, and they sat down next to the gigantic bed that Fog occupied. Ron spoke first. "Fog, mate, you are a crazy son of a-"

"Ron!" Hermione snapped, then she shook her head. "I don't know how you manage to even think of all these stupid stunts," she muttered bluntly.

"Mostly luck and sheer stupidity," the mouse countered in mews. He unwrapped his tail, revealing the crumple-winged snitch that he was grabbing onto with all four limbs, holding it as close as possible with all his admittedly small might. He untangled his legs from the golden ball and blushed, and from Ron's laugh deduced that the red tinge was visible even through his blanket of fur.

Hermione changed the subject for the sake of what little dignity Fog had left. "You should have seen Dumbledore's face when he saw the dementors! He looked really scary!"

Ron coughed a few times between his choking, and Fog deduced it to mean, "His face when he saw dementors eating chocolate was priceless! It looked like he was hit by an entire quidditch team!" At the mention of quidditch his eyes darkened a little and his gleeful cackling subsided. "...Mate, about your broom..."

Hermione held out a pink broom handle and a few hundred pink twigs. "It can't be repaired," she told him sadly; that broom had grown on her since she had recoloured it.

Fog stroked the remains of the broom absently, but he remembered something that made the loss seem to disappear. "I flew! I guess I didn't actually but that's just because my human form was heavy so I couldn't hold myself up, but I can probably fly like this!"

To the humans, it seemed like Fog was chattering animatedly and waving his arms around, and they obviously couldn't understand his speech. Pomfrey broke the ensuing silence. "Fog, is something wrong?"

Fog placed a paw on his forehead, then decided to just show them what he meant. He leapt into the air, then began pushing water vapour out of his paws and tail, occasionally ejecting some out of his front paws to stabilise his flight. To him, it felt like he was suspended by nothing, just floating there magically. He wondered why it hadn't gotten foggy, but Hermione's mind beat his own to the answer.

"Because it's warm in here, the water vapour can't turn back to water, so it stays invisible," she explained simply, hoping that the muggle explanation wouldn't go over Ron's head. The redhead just nodded his head confidently, secretly wondering why Fog wasn't making his namesake.

At midnight, Fog floated out of the hospital wing, testing his flying skills as he headed for the library. He figured out that it was even easier to do than flying a broom, once he knew how, and by the time he entered the bookworm paradise, he was somersaulting and zigzagging all over the place, purring happily as he went.

Fog liked being a mouse thing more than he liked being a Boggart, he found. It was fun, there weren't any boring responsibilities, and he could fly! The only things he couldn't do were speak and defend himself, so he resolved to find a way in one of the library books.

After fours hours and ten minutes of looking, along with fifty minutes of on and off sleeping, Fog came to the conclusion that the books weren't here. So he did the logical thing, and grabbed a pouch of Galleons from his trunk, then flew to Hogsmeade, laughing at some ground-based cats on the way. He found the shop called Tomes & Scrolls, and pushed the door open after checking the opening hours.

"Good eveni-" The shopkeeper stopped mid sentence as he saw the chimera that was Fog; cat ears, fox tail, mouse body, human eyes... needless to say, he was quite the sight. The keeper didn't let it bother him for long, however. "Good evening. May I help you?"

Fog nodded, then floated over to a thick book, called 'A Database of Magical Accidents, 1930-1950'. He framed the word 'Magical' with his paws, and the keeper repeated the word out loud, garnering a nod from the dragon mouse, who then pointed at the human.

"Erm... Magical Me, by Gil-" the man stopped when Fog violently shook his head, dizzying himself in the process. After landing to wait for the world to go straight, Fog pointed at the man again. "A few more clues please, I don't understand-" lots of nodding ensued, and the man rebooted his thoughts. "Hmm. Magical understanding?.. Magical... Speech! Of course! You can't speak! I'll be back with a book on telepathy right away!" he shouted, and Fog felt accomplished for not having resorted to Shifting. He was going to stay in this form for as long as (in)humanly possible, and no language barrier could stop him!

After Fog paid for his book, the man bid him farewell. "Do stop by if you learn telepathy! You're far better mannered than some of my other customers!" The mouse giggled and waved goodbye, then set off back to Hogwarts, completely forgetting to ask for a book on fighting. Not that it would be much help in the first place.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we have yet another chapter! I just keep churning these out like a machine!<strong>

**A machine with only one word for giggle, but a machine nonetheless.**

**By the way, Harry sleeps ten minutes every hour even at night, but can also sleep the entire night if he feels like it. Just sayin'.**

**Next chapter, stuff happens! I'll have to check the books for any major events, but I have an idea of what to do if none exist.**

**I think I'll try to make every chapter longer than the last from now on, if only because I'm getting closer to the Triwizard Tournament, and I have billions of ideas for that year.**


	25. Potion

**[Insert Harry Potter theme tune and disclaimer here]**

* * *

><p>Fog's telepathy training with the other Animagi in the Shrieking Shack was not going well. Burst had gotten the hang of it in less than an hour, while Clip had followed soon after. Teads and Hails apparently had some innate skill to link to each other, but it took them just over two hours to contact anybody else. Stria and Hexit got the idea at two and a half hours. Mr Daddy and Luna (Burst refused to call her Norbert, so they were thinking of a new name) came second to last, tying in at two hours and forty minutes.<p>

The problem was that Fog simply couldn't focus on his mind, despite the natural Occlumency skill he apparently possessed from being a Boggart. He was always distracted by this smell, or that sound. Even the stray black dog in the corner of the room, who had been attempting to make himself unseen, managed to derail his thoughts!

That was when Fog realised that he couldn't study any more. He simply didn't have the mindset now that he had become a draconemus. Oh, no teachers would realise that for a while; he'd already finished studying all the third year material. The problem was that Fog couldn't learn anything new very quickly. He could hammer it into his mind, but it would take years just to master one spell by Clip's rough estimates, and he didn't have that sort of time.

At that point, his life changed forever. Again. The mousey Boggart dove into the subject of spell creation, one that he had already studied extensively out of curiosity, but that he had had no reason to pursue before. Now, however, he could do something with it. Because if he couldn't _learn_ anything, what could he do?

He could _create_ anything.

After three more hours, a lot longer than it would have taken to learn the skill before the Fog settled in, the brown rodent had created his own version of telepathy. It was fairly crude and would need much developing, but he could send both sounds and simple images across, rather than just verbal speech. So the others naturally learned it, taking less time now that they had all gotten the required Occlumency down.

So now Fog was building his magic from the ground up, in a way that would suit him, but take a lot longer to develop. He was okay with with, and excited at the prospect of accidentally creating something groundbreaking to the wizarding world.

The nine friends transformed back to human (except Fog, who draped himself protectively around Hermione's neck), and headed back to the castle after a profitable day. Luna waved a quick good-bye before heading back to the Ravenclaw common room, and the other eight continued onto the Gryffindor tower.

The Fat Lady's portrait had been fixed soon after the game, the damage having somehow escaped the Professors' notice until the day after the game. Naturally, Shift was discreetly called out to help search the school by Flitwick, who simply asked Ron and Hermione if they had seen him. Fog soon got the message, and slunk out of the portrait, then Shifted to his much-neglected spider form and raced for the staff room.

Hours later, Harry Potter stumbled into the common room and up the stairs, hoping to avoid the stares that both Fog and Shift seemed to get. Unfortunately he had forgotten his own fame, and the fact that Harry hadn't been to the common room for weeks, rather opting to be Fog, did nothing to help the matter. As soon as he was alone at the top of the stairs, he Shifted into his natural form, and his mind went off on a tangent.

What should he call Shifting into Fog, anyway? He needed a name for this stuff, damnit! Transforming was too general, Shifting was for Shift only... He could say he was Fogging up... That sounded okay, so he decided to keep it.

He fogged up and pulled the door handle down, but his weight couldn't turn the handle, and he realised that this form much weigh about as much as a small apple. He grumbled and released some vapour from the top of his head, pushing the handle down, and he wedged his long tail into the gap between door and doorframe, pushing it open by wiggling the tip a little.

Anybody watching would have thought it was adorable, and opened the door for him. If they knew it was Harry, they would have reminded him that he could just Shift back into a human. To Fog, however, this was a challenge to his creativity and mousiness, and if he wanted to stay in this form forever (which he did), he would need to learn how to do these things eventually. Might as well start early, rather than finding a locked door while being chased by death eaters.

Of course, he would just have to Shift at that point, to ward off said death eaters, but it was the thought that counted.

Admonishing his nonsensical train of thought once more, Fog flew into the room and landed on his bed, where Hermione already lay asleep, and curled up around her exposed neck once more.

Nobody in the dorm seemed bothered that Hermione had decided to sleep there; indeed most simply chalked it up to the product of their kind-of-going-out-sort-of status. Most speculated that it was only a matter of time before Luna did the same to Ron, and bets were even going around as to when this would come true.

Fog's last thought as he fell asleep was that bugger, he had double Potions in the morning.

The next day, Fog got up quickly, and packed his things for the day. He staggered to breakfast, too tired to even fly, and Hermione transported him onto the tabletop, where there was a huge bowl of popcorn (toffee, this time) waiting as usual. He dug in, barely registering what he ate, before Hermione cast a _Tempus_, shouted her surprise, and raced back to the dorms, the bowl of popcorn in her arms, and Fog in the bowl of popcorn, covered in hundreds of bits of the stuff.

She rushed to the bathroom and left the bowl on a windowsill, twisting taps and casting her own _Aguamenti_ to speed things up. Then she lifted a complaining Fog out of the bowl and dunked him into the water, using Scourgify every so often to pull out unpopped kernels and bits of toffee.

After around five minutes, she declared the job a success and pulled the mouse out of the water, dropping him onto a towel, then wrapping it around him and rubbing hard. After three more minutes, she let him go, and he zipped out of the room, hiding under his covers and shivering violently. After a few minutes, the form grew and Harry stuck his head out from under the quilt.

"Need some robes," he muttered, and Hermione's blush could rival a lighthouse.

"You aren't wearing anything?" She asked incredulously, blinking rapidly.

"Nope, too cagey-inney to wear all the time," he said bluntly, uncaring about the made up words. "Don't wear 'em 'less I'm gonna be human."

Hermione thought back to what she'd just done and blushed even harder, and Harry would later complain of blindness, despite his healing factor. "Well, hurry up," she attempted to admonish him, but the blush didn't help with that, "We've got Potions in twenty minutes."

Harry pulled on the robes, still under the covers, and leapt out, grabbing his Potion books and making a beeline for the door.

"I believe, as Potter doesn't seem to care enough to attend this class every lesson, that we should... quiz him." Snape paused to look menacingly around the room, then turned back to where Harry was now attempting to start a conversation with a pale Ron. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for talking," he stated easily, then started on the questions as he now had the eternal bed-head's full attention. He would admit that the boy had become somewhat of an enigma lately, and set out to solve that. "Tell me, Potter, what is the fourth step to creating a Wolfsbane potion?"

Harry turned his head towards the Professor; he had been following a fly with his hands and attempting to grab it from where he sat, nearly overbalancing several times. "Sorry, Sir, I must have been distracted." What infuriated Snape the most was that the boy was being entirely honest and open; he had been distracted in the three seconds it had taken, and not even on purpose!

"Ten more points from Gryffindor," he told them, then repeated the question.

"Oh, that's easy. Just add the flobberworm fangs, then stir three clockwise and once counter and repeat that for twenty minutes, then stir in a Wolfsbane leaf and wait for the potion to turn blue. Pour it-"

"I asked for the fourth step, Potter. Five points from Gryffindor for wasting time. I would have said ten, but you are, impossibly, correct. Prove that this was not a fluke. What potions are the bezoar used in?"

"Generally, antidotes for poisons that wouldn't be affected by a raw bezoar, such as the surface potion, which is named after its ability to- wait, I'm getting off track. It can also be crushed and mixed with Phoenix tears to create a far more potent general antidote known as the 'Pheonix mix' for some odd reason, the creator must have been Slytherin, he had a bad time with names, I mean seriously, the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Twenty more points for time wasting," Snape interrupted him, despite being secretly interested in the boy's ramblings, which reminded him of... he couldn't place it. "Now, Potter, create a drought of living death, without using the instructions, and we shall test it on yourself."

Harry began sweating slightly. Potions was the one subject, apart from History of Magic, that he had neglected studying beforehand. Therefore, he hadn't read about this potion yet, and certainly didn't know the method to brew it. He remembered Snape's words words from first year about the potion, and noticed that the Professor had used the same subjects for the quiz; wolfsbane, bezoars, and the drought of living death.

_"Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful, it is known as the Drought of Living Death."_ That was all he had to go by, the words that he heard over three years ago.

Snape sneered at Potter, but there was something under that expression that Snape hadn't felt for years: curiosity. He had deliberately asked the Potter boy something not in the syllabus, and from the look on the Gryffindor's face he hadn't learned the answer from anywhere else. That potion would take a week to brew, and Snape's eyes gleamed slightly at the thought of catching the boy out, even if only once. It was a great surprise, then, when Harry whipped out a cauldron and stood up to collect some ingredients.

The boy's eyes passed right over the Asphodel, and Snape was elated, although he did sweat a little when Potter picked up a clump of wormwood leaves. However, he also picked out a few ingredients that had nothing to do with the potion, and Snape's previously faltering sneer picked up to maximum power.

Then the boy began to work. He chucked random items into the cauldron, poked the wormwood with his wand, setting it on fire, and placed that inside. After ten seconds of stirring, Potter threw in some Bubotuber pus and pufferfish poison, then put the cauldron over a blue flame. After twenty seconds, the flaming pile of ingredients had become something akin to flaming black sludge, and Harry poured it onto the table and began kneading it, extinguishing the fire and converting the entire thing to what seemed to be regular dough. He flattened it out and spread some red sauce on it, then added some cheese that had been sitting in the cupboard and all sorts of toppings.

Then he cooked the whole thing over a regular orange fire for ten minutes, which he spent 'practicing his metamorphmagicks', according to the Granger girl.

Many muggleborns and even some purebloods laughed out loud as a purple-haired Harry Potter pulled out a pizza, and the boy bowed and shouted, "Bon Appetite!"

Snape's sneer had become a look of utter disgust as he inspected the various items on the dough, to the delight of all students watching. "Potter!" He barked, a smirk creeping back onto his face. "Drink it, or should I say eat?"

Snape fully expected the entire class to pale, and indeed, most students did at the prospect of eating what looked like a harmless pizza except filled with poisons. Potter, however, simply grinned and took a bite.

And he collapsed. Most everyone in the class screamed or yelled, Snape loudest of all. "SILENCE!" The panic stopped, and Snape knelt down to inspect him, incredulous that the boy had actually eaten a piece of the poisoned meal. His mind ran through what the potion could possibly have been. Judging by the ingredients, the order, and the way the boy cut and mixed them, Snape guessed... An incredibly powerful sleeping potion? Pizza? He blanched at the thought of this boy having actually completed the task, and by throwing random ingredients together, nonetheless!

He checked for the signs and sure enough, the heartbeat had almost stopped, the face had relaxed without draining of colour, and the breathing was slow but unlaboured.

Snape couldn't believe this was possible. Here the potion master couldn't even invent a regular potion on his first try, and Potter had made a potion disguised as regular food in under half an hour!

Snape's own heart almost stopped at the words that unwillingly left his mouth. "One hundred points to Gryffindor for unnatural luck."

With that, the Potions Master dismissed the worried but relieved class and waited until everyone bar Granger and Weasley had left, and made to pick up the boy.

And failed miserably. He tried again, noting this time that his hands simply slid through the boy's torso. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the boy's friends backing away slightly, and he turned towards them, practically spitting with rage. "What is the meaning of this?" Not waiting for an answer he turned back to the illusion and snarled, "_Finite Incantatem!_"

Whatever the man had been expecting, it wasn't this. A brown rat with a ridiculously long tail curled around itself had taken Potter's place. He turned once more to the rat's 'friends' and repeated, "WHAT is the MEANING of this?"

Hermione bit her lip, then hurried forward, picked up the ball of fluff that was Fog, and the two students and rat thing were out of the room before Snape could react. To say the Professor was angry would be saying that the sun was warm. It didn't even begin to cover the truth. He cursed under his breath and made for the hospital wing, reasoning that the pair of 'real' students would either be there or with that half-giant brute of a gamekeeper.

Thankfully, his first choice was correct, and Hermione stopped him at the door. "Stop stomping, this is a hospital, you know!"

Snape opened his mouth automatically to abduct points from Gryffindor, but stopped himself and simply forced himself through the door, making sure his steps were quieter to allow the Granger girl no other reason to slow him down.

"'Lo, Professor," came the sleepy voice of Harry Potter, and Snape recognised the slurred speech as a surefire sign of the perfect sleeping drought. "Sorry I fell 'sleep in class," he joked, and sat up in the bed he occupied.

Snape saw a completely human Potter, with no visible sign of that brown rat anywhere close. Now that the man thought about it, however, Potter had become a little more... animalistic since returning to Hogwarts this year. He seemed overly curious about every little thing, easily distractable... Even his diet had changed to one of fish, raw meat and popcorn. Snape couldn't understand the popcorn craving, but the others seemed like things that a werewolf would eat.

Maybe Lupin had gotten to the boy, although that still wouldn't explain the rat thing. Maybe the potion had caused the effect, but the potions master didn't see any ingredient that could have caused that.

Harry Potter was still an enigma, and Snape didn't like it. "Potter! What was that rat thing that took your place when you dran- _ate_ that potion?"

Potter raised an infuriating eyebrow at the man, then said, "Rat thing, Professor? I must have fallen asleep for that... I'm really sorry..."

Snape saw that the boy was lying, but it really was well-done. He supposed that having all the world's evil come after you would force you to lie convincingly. But Snape saw something else, something that he would never have guessed could materialise on a Potter's face.

He saw sorrow. Why that was, he couldn't tell, as the boy seemed to have developed his Occlumency, but it was plain as daylight on his face. And it scared the Professor, who quickly turned on his heel, forgetting even to deduct points. He would figure this out, sooner or later.

* * *

><p><strong>Snape now deems Harry suspicious! Will he take it to the headmaster? Of course not, wizards hate logic with a passion, even if they did use it during first year!<strong>

**This chapter is actually longer than the previous, as promised, but the short AN kinda offsets that. I don't care though, that was a nice place to end.**

**I like this chapter, it seems to flow more than the others and I hope I can keep up this standard, and *maybe* rewrite the other chapters. Don't hold me up on that, though.**


	26. Fakey

**Coming up next: a disclaimer!**

**... No?**

* * *

><p>Harry slowly released the air from his lungs as the footsteps belonging to Snape faded away. "That was far too close."<p>

"Now what on earth is going on?" Pomfrey demanded more than asked of the three students.

Harry responded immediately. "Snape made me make a Drought of Living Death and test it on myself," he said promptly, then back-pedalled, finally realising what had been at stake. "Wait, did you say before that Snape saw Fog?"

Hermione sighed and began to explain. "That was why he was here in the first place, Harry. He tried to pick you up after you drank the potion, but he couldn't, so he cast _Finite_ and dispelled Ron's illusion."

Ron made a sound that probably should have come from his dragon form. "Bloody hell, but Snape's powerful," he complained, "he didn't even have to _try_ to overpower the glamour!"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. They'd probably be chatting for hours unless she could distract them with something- "Why not create a glamour rune?" she asked, surprising even herself. "They aren't affected by _Finite_."

After a few minutes of gaping and wondering why she hadn't thought of that, Hermione broke the uncomfortable silence. "It's a brilliant idea, but we haven't studied that-"

"Harry," Ron interrupted, then tossed him a runestone. "Craft a _Lumos_ rune." Harry deftly caught the small rock, looking from it to Ron with curiosity plastered on his face, but when he finally pulled out a chisel, Ron leapt forwards. "Do it as Fog," he amended, and Harry Fogged up, then tried to figure out a way to dig through the solid stone without tools.

He eventually settled on trying to concentrate his vapour, but couldn't seem to get it to flow right out of his front paws. Hermione, despite having no clue what was going on, gave a useful nugget of inspiration. "What if you used your tail? It seems like it was designed for shooting water vapour!"

Fog nodded his acknowledgement and set the stone onto the damp bed, then took a few steps back and pulled his tail out from behind him. He grabbed onto it with both paws to compensate for any recoil, and started streaming vapour through the tip.

Surprisingly, the tip of Fog's tail seemed to be the most effective way to shoot steam, and he found he actually _could_ concentrate it into a cutting edge, just like he'd been planning. He doodled a few circles onto the stone, Ron looking on smugly and Hermione in confusion.

After ten minutes of non-stop carving, Fog collapsed on the bed, and the others rushed forwards in a panic. Pomfrey casted a spell or two and sighed in relief as Fog struggled to stand up, and she pushed him back into bed, where he instantly fell asleep. "Fifty minutes past," she muttered, happy with the progress of 'Operation: Make Fog Sleep Between Lessons', then she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, magical exhaustion on top of his need to sleep, it'll be a wonder if he wakes up at all today. That concentrated blast of steam must have used a lot of magic..."

Ron, having understood that his best friend wasn't in any danger, picked up the grey runestone, a satisfied smirk in place. "_Reformo visum!_"

The females of the group leapt back from a now human Harry Potter, and swivelled to face the redhead blankly. "What was that?" Hermione finally asked, and Ron shrugged.

"An experiment. I distracted Harry enough that he forgot about my asking for a Lumos. When he started crafting, I guessed that he would just automatically make the rune that he needed the most. And I was right!" He shrugged again at the girls' nonplussed expressions. "I noticed that Harry just seemed to create what he wanted, even if he didn't know he wanted it, so I took advantage of that."

Ron had changed almost as much as Harry since the beginning of the year. He seemed much less... completely Gryffindor. He was as mature and book-smart as any Ravenclaw, especially in runes; he was loyal almost to a fault and had become far more hardworking in the few months past; and most oddly, he now _bested_ most Slytherins in cunning and ambition. Oh, he was as reckless and foolhardy as he ever had been, but now it was balanced by many other qualities. Hermione smiled at how far the redhead had come since she first met a certain obnoxious eleven year old.

Ron studied the runes closely, unaware of Hermione's thought process, and tucked the stone into illusion-Harry's breast pocket, knowing that to be where Fog lay. "Now that I've activated it, the rune should run off Fog's magic while he's asleep; he just has to remember to carry that."

Having heard Ron's speech, Pomfrey jolted out of her daze, and immediately sent the two human students off. "Yes, that's all well and good, but Fog and/or Harry needs some rest, and you aren't helping by chattering your heads off in here!"

When Fog woke up the next day and left the hospital wing, he absently noted the exact replica of his Harry, as he had come to call his own human form, plodding tiredly underneath him. The brown mouse was a little creeped out by this, so he sped up his flight. Unfortunately, the strange Harry was a bit of a speedster, keeping up easily with the not quite broomstick-level speeds of Fog. He actually looked quite ridiculous, sprinting at almost 30 miles per hour, and Fog was glad that he didn't run into anyone during the short burst of speed.

Fog slowed to a walking pace, and below him the fake Harry did too. They slowly made their way to the Gryffindor tower. Unfortunately, here Fog realised something. If he was going to get through the portrait, he would need to come within arms reach of the fake Harry. He hesitated slightly, frowning downwards, and the fake Harry did too. The draconemus had an idea and threw out his stubby right arm. Fake-Harry did the same.

By the time Fog made it to the Fat Lady's portrait, he had forgotten about the problem. It came back in full force, however, when the woman asked Fake-Harry for the password.

"Golden Snitch." As Fog mewed the password to the Fat Lady, Fake-Harry did likewise. Well, he spoke rather than mewing, but it didn't matter much to Fog as he flew through the entrance, ears pressing against the ceiling in his attempt to stay away from the human abomination below him. He manuovered Fake-Harry over to the fireplace, where Hermione and Ron sat talking with the rest of the Animagickal group. Animagickal sounded like a good name for the nine friends, he thought, but got his thoughts back on track quickly.

He coughed lightly into a paw and the group stopped what they were doing to turn towards Fake-Harry. Hermione leapt out of her seat and gave Fake-Harry a bone-crushing hug, which... passed straight through him.

Hermione stumbled back to her seat, glancing once or twice at Fake-Harry in fright, and Fog and Fakey sighed in unison. Fakey was a fitting name for that- No! He needed to concentrate! Fog and Fakey took a calming breath, then began explaining in a somewhat psychotic voice, with wide, fearful eyes that really didn't help.

The content of his rambling didn't seem much better. "Guys I'm actually five feet above myself at the moment and it's really confusing and scary but I'm Fog and this Harry is a fake and he's following me and copying me and seriously I don't know if this is real and please Merlin save me from my human self which I've called Fakey because did I mention he's a fake and I'm the real one but I don't really know if that's true and oh god this is terrifying and creepy please help."

Everyone stood stock-still for a grand total of seventy two seconds, before Hermione stood up, took a few steps back, and charged towards Fakey. At the last second she jumped, grabbed a hold of Fog, and landed crouched over him. Something fell to the floor, elicitting a thunk, and the illusion lifted. Fog finally registered that he had been invisible, and was relieved at seeing his own limbs once more. Then everything went black.

Fog awoke, tangled in something extremely bushy and brown. He recognised it instantly as Hermione's hair, which calmed him; he'd much rather be here than anywhere else at the moment. It was warm, comfortable, safe... It was perfect.

Moving on from the perfection that was Hermione's hair, Fog glanced warily around at his surroundings. He was still in the Gryffindor common room, but this time, gigantic faces loomed overhead like monsters. He drew further back into the locks, shivering slightly, and felt something descend upon his back.

It was comforting, surprisingly. It was huge, but it wasn't scary-huge. It was more the sort of huge that made him feel protected. His shaking stopped and he purred lightly, delighting in the warmth of what he now recognised to be Hermione's hand.

"It's alright, Fog, just sleep for now," she cooed gently. "I'll protect you until you wake up." He felt Hermione pulling him closer, and buried himself deeper in her hair, snuggling up to the side of her neck. He heard Hermione speak again, but this time it seemed distant, like she didn't want to disturb him. "Guys, back, off, he's disorientated enough without you staring at him. Even human Harry hates staring, imagine how badly he'd react with seven giants looking at him!"

Fog closed his eyes and drifted off again, blissfully unaware and uncaring of the heated discussion going on without him back in the realm of the living.

When Fog woke up, it was once again to the protective feeling that Hermione seemed to naturally give off. He silently stretched and yawned, but that still alerted the bushy-haired girl, who asked softly, "Can you understand me, Fog?"

He nodded slowly, careful not to make any sound in case he woke up those giants he had seen earlier, and felt more than saw Hermione's sigh of relief. "That's good," she told him, "I have a lot to tell you." Fog's ears pricked up; if she had something to say, he wouldn't want to miss it, after all.

Hermione sighed again, this time in preparation for her speech. "Fakey, as you called him, was an illusion that you created on that rune before you fainted, Fog. It's hard to explain, but Ron said that if you're distracted, you'll make whatever you subconsciously want, or something." She stopped for breath, something that she never would have done before this year, and asked, "Do you understand me so far?"

Fog nodded, still wary of the unseen surroundings. Hermione seemed to pick up on his fear, because she said gently, "Come out and sit on my lap. Nothing out here can hurt you, Fog." The black and brown mouse uncurled his tail charily, then slowly untangled himself from the frizzy hair and pattered down the girl's arm and onto her legs. She giggled, but quickly stifled the sound and once again began stroking him calmingly.

As Fog observed his surroundings, he absently noted the dank wooden walls, desk and bed, and came to the conclusion that they were in the Shrieking Shack. One of the giants was there, with hair and face an angry red, but as Fog finally recognised the creature as Ron Weasley, the colour became cheering, like a lit fireplace, warming up the entire room.

Once she deemed Fog responsive enough, Hermione continued. "The rune created a Glamour charm, which would make you look like Harry while sleeping, but we didn't know it would stay active while you were awake, Fog."

"I'm really sorry, mate, I didn't even think about what you would think," Ron mumbled, something etched into his face. Fog had to stare for a second before he recognised that something as... sorrow? No, not quite. It seemed like he was apologetic, and that did make more sense.

Fog felt that he could open a link with the redhead by now, so he did. _-'S fine... Sorry I panicked earlier,- _he managed, before the connection forced itself shut.

Ron reopened it for a gasping-for-breath Fog, this time including Hermione in the conversation. _-What happened to Fog anyway, Hermione?-_

_-He hyperventilated,- _she returned simply._ -When I grabbed you, Fog, you dropped the runestone and it chipped, so you don't have it anymore. Ron memorised the runes, though, if you want to-_

_-I don't want to look human anymore, that was creepy,-_ Fog butted in, and shuddered. _-Never again do I want to see Fakey.-_

Ron laughed out loud, but Hermione still seemed worried. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, forgetting the link, but Fog simply made use of the special features and sent her the image of a thumbs-up.

"Well, if you're sure, we have Arithmancy in an hour, so we should get ready soon."

Two hours later, the three students walked out of the stuffy classroom, and Harry nearly collapsed with relief, shouting "Thank Merlin!" and Fogging up.

"Honestly, Fog," Hermione berated the somersaulting mouse. "Someone will see if you just do that as soon as we leave lessons! Why don't you stay human for a little while?"

Fog just stuck out his tongue and proceeded to chase a beam of light cast by Ron.

* * *

><p><strong>I take back what I said about each chapter being longer than the last. Screw that, this takes long enough as is.<strong>

**Fog gets a reminder that yes, he is an animal. I don't know how all this happened, I just wanted to address Harry's Potions classes this chapter, and it turned into this...**

**Call it talented writing, but even I didn't know Fog/Harry's skills would fit in with the story that well. Looking back, there's even foreshadowing for the 'make whatever he wants' plot point.**

**I'm an accidental genius, and it feels good.**

**Smell ya later!**


End file.
